


In Between

by GrowingAHead (shelleyk0503)



Series: In Between [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Interpretation, M/M, Turn Back the Pendulum Arc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2018-12-15 07:35:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 41,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11801436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shelleyk0503/pseuds/GrowingAHead
Summary: Snippets of shared time between Hirako Shinji and Aizen Sousuke.Before, during, and after the "Turn Back the Pendulum" Arc. With original backstory regarding Shinji's past and his former captain. Featuring other Visord-to-be-members and OCs.(Chapters with a different rating is separately posted underOur Time Carved into Our Flesh)





	1. Knowing

"...and you'll live under her thumb for the rest of your life."

"Hey, what kind of fortune is that?"

"Yours."

The young shinigami's frown deepened to a scowl as his companion guffawed.

"Ye're damn lucky there's some gal willing ta put up with ya. For da rest of yer life, no less. Ma sympathies're with da gal,"

Had their stern superior seen the two youths right now, their respective rears wouldn't have escaped the wrath of his equally stern boot. He had sent out his underlings - miserable runts that they were - for _patrol_ , he'd bellow, _not_ to dally around some run-down stall like a couple of gossiping old maids!

As it were, the two shinigami fully knew their superior wouldn't be caught dead in such a dingy corner street of Rukongai - lest it soil his shiny boots and his social upstanding, largely imaginary as the latter was. The routine patrol had been more like a stroll. The two had been in a state of near sleep when they spotted the stall with the sign that proclaimed: **Fortune Telling: Career Paths / Money Problems / Future Love**. ***Cash Up Front***.

Just to alleviate boredom, they had approached the stall and saw, instead of an old crone they expected, a young girl of their age. The pleasant surprise immediately convinced them that having their fortunes told wouldn't be such a waste of their time and money. They'd chosen 'future love' because the other two hit a bit too close to home while the last seemed sufficiently far away to be innocuous.

Another expectation broken was that if the girl was playing - as they suspected - the part of the seer, she took it seriously.

"...I like quiet and demure types. Anything on that? Not even a little?"

"You cannot bargain your fortune."

"Will she have big b... I mean, big... um... a big... heart?"

The girl somehow communicated her contempt through her impassive face.

"She'll have a sharp tongue, a quick hand, and a sturdy foot to silence your nonsense."

There was another bout of laughter, another glare to match it.

"Okay, but... we'll happy together?"

Looking from his friend's eager visage and to the porcelain-doll face of the fortuneteller, the light-haired shinigami fancied he saw the girl's eyes soften a little.

"Yes, you two will be very happy."

A moment's hesitation, and she spoke again.

"She'll be your life."

Although unsatisfied with the cryptic answer, the young shinigami huffed and leaned back.

"Well, that's what counts, I guess. Your turn, Shinji."

"Ya sure ya wanna hear about ma future romances? Ya might turn green with envy."

The light-haired shinigami held out a coin and was impressed at the way it magically disappeared - switching places with a hand that now held his. Enjoying its softness, the young shinigami gave his most winning smile but the girl kept her gaze on his palm.

Both the hold and the gaze went on for longer than comfortable.

When the shinigmai fidgeted, the fortuneteller snatched her hand away as if burnt. The abruptness surprised all three of them.

"I-I'm sorry, I, I.... can't see,"

The girl's pale cheeks were now painfully flushed, as if someone had cruelly slapped the porcelain doll into unwilling life.

"I'm so sorry, I can't see anything," the fortuneteller repeated, now sounding more like a girl than a seer. "Here-"

The magic trick happened in reverse as a coin was thrust back into the shinigami's palm.

"Your money back,"

"Oh-well, it's okay, just keep it - "

" _NO_."

The girl shoved the coin with such force that it nearly made the shinigami stumble.

"And it's my break time, goodbye."

Small, frantic hands grabbed the straw curtains and yanked them together, with a final mutter of "I'm sorry."

The two shinigami were left blinking at the closed-off stall.

"What was DAT all 'bout?"

"Huh, maybe she saw such a TOAD in your future that she didn't have the heart to tell you."

The youth clapped a light blow to his friend's head for the gibe, and the rest of their patrol was whiled away with bickering.

In the end, they laughed the whole thing off. After all, what else could they do?

But the last look they'd seen just before the straw curtains closed would haunt them. A look full of fear and underneath... something else.

Years after, one of them would define it as _pity_.

To Hirako Shinji, that event would prove a small but lasting stain. When he made a seat in his division, when he discovered music from the Human World, when he was drinking with his comrades under the flurry of cherry blossoms during the Spring Festival - the memory would be a smidgen of darkness that kept all such moments from being _just_ perfect.

There came a time when his friend moved to a different division, and when he wouldn't stop talking about how he couldn't _stand_ a certain stuck-up fellow shinigami who always chided him. To no-one's surprise, it soon led to a wedding. Then he constantly complained of his jailer of a wife, yet never stayed out for late-night drinks.

And during those times, that stain of a memory gradually solidified into knowledge inside Hirako Shinji.

When disease took his friend's wife, Shinji stood beside his friend during the rainy funeral. Shinji wasn't surprised to hear that his friend passed away only a handful of days later. It was during a simple Hollow hunt. _He just stood there_ , his colleagues said, as the Hollow shot up and poured down on him, all jaws. _It was as if he couldn't even see it_.

Of course he couldn't see anything, Shinji knew. there was nothing in that body to do the seeing. The Hollow must have gone hungry for all its efforts, for what it had devoured was just an empty husk. His friend's life had been taken days ago, along with his wife's. Shinji did not attend the funeral. He knew his friend's true funeral had been with his wife.

(Not that he didn't seek out the said Hollow in his next hunt. Not that he didn't hack it to unrecognizable pieces until its shrieks died only when all those bits dissipated into oblivion. For there was such a thing as obligation.)

Through it all, the knowledge settled and pulsated in the innermost recess of his being.

_Something terrible awaits me._

Something inescapable and inevitable.

Something so unspeakable that it was deserving of such fear and pity.

 

_"Hey, will ya look at dat weirdo,"_

_"But I'm already looking at you,"_

_"Haha. Very funny, Kensei, I mean - "_

_"Will you keep it down? You planning to scare the unsuspecting students?"_

_"I think your hair has already done the job, Love,"_

_"ANYWAYS, I'm talkin' 'bout dat four-eyes over there,"_

_"What about him? He looks attentive."_

_"EXACTLY. Ya've been through dat class back in da day, haven't ya, Kensei?"_

_"Make it waaaaaay back in the day - this is why I don't like visiting the academy, makes one feel one's age -"_

_"- and it's IMPOSSIBLE ta be attentive in dat class, let alone be alive. Look at da rest, they be all dead. He's the only one sittin' straight. Unnatural, dat is,"_

 

He also knew that small spot of darkness was only a prelude to the much bigger darkness to come.

 

_"Maybe he actually finds the class interesting."_

_"Freak,"_

 

Of course, just knowing would not help him.

 

Not at all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been off Bleach for years. Then I end up listening to some Bleach openings and for no discernible reasons, these two - completely off my radar when I was actively into Bleach - got hold of me. And now I have to reread all those chapters.


	2. Lily of the Valley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An evening with flowers, dotted with smallest bits of Shinji's past that Sousuke wasn't part of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes about 5th Division's symbol flower. It's lily of the valley (Convallaria majalis) in English versions. but the Kanji seems to indicate Japanese Andromeda (Pieris Japonica). They are different plants belonging to different genus. So this caused me a bit of a headache but since the latter is also called the lily of the valley shrub, I've decided to just stick with the name lily of the valley.

 

"I ain't gonna thank ya for NOT saying 'I told you so,'"

The petulant remark was received with a wordless smile. The lieutenant of the 5th division lightly stepped over the door, where his captain stood with his back still dangerously close to the pouring waters.

"I went out to pick you up - "

At his lieutenant's words, Shinji flicked a glance at the dripping umbrella leaning against the door frame. It was the same umbrella that his lieutenant had insisted that he take on his way out but had been blithely brushed aside. Anyone would've sworn that the sky was dry then and would stay that way.

"- but I missed you. I met the other guests returning from the wedding and they said you went off in another direction."

"Wanted ta take a bit o' a walk all by me lonesome after bein' with such a crowd."

"Hardly lonesome."

Shinji blinked and followed the amused glance of his lieutenant, towards the cluster of flowers cradled in his arms. The heavy rain would have mercilessly beheaded them off their juicy stems if not for the captain bearing the brunt of thudding waters. An honor quite lost on the flowers themselves. Only broken shards of raindrops dotted the fresh green leaves and the shyly bent heads of fat, creamy petal-bowls.

"Spoils of the wedding?"

"More like a bother. The father of the bride dumped them on ta me. All just fer me, he says, our division flowers,"

"But you 'bothered' to bring them all?"

"What was I ta do? Abandon the poor ladies on the road?"

A chuckle. With it, a soft weight settled on Shinji's head and over his back, effectively muffling whatever retort he was about to make. Shinji rolled his eyes upwards, catching sight of fleecy whiteness. When his gaze came back down, it met his lieutenant's hands. Still stretched out, towards his armful of flowers.

Shinji frowned up at the smiling visage. He didn't like standing this close to his lieutenant.  Face-to-face, having to look up. Perhaps because not many of the other captains had lieutenants taller than themselves. Shinji unconsciously straightened his back but quickly slouched again as the blanket of a towel threatened to slide off.

"It's either relinquishing them to me or the floor,"

 _Well no,_ Shinji thought, _I_ could _keep holding on ta them and hobble into my office just like this looking for proper places to put them myself. Making the floor a wet mess and knocking into furniture because I can hardly see with this fluffy monstrosity ya've draped over me - probably looking like a madman all the while._

But that was typical of Aizen Sousuke. All his kind suggestions offered in a way that rejecting them would look either unreasonable or silly. Before Shinji could decide on being either of them, he felt his lieutenant come closer. Heat from the other set his skin tingling and Shinji realized only then how cold he'd gotten. Shinji caught a glimpse of brown hair and edges of glasses as his lieutenant bent over him. Sousuke's mouth parted and a red tongue slipped out to tip over the edge of his lip for fraction of a second before retreating, as if he were about to say something but thought better of it. Or -

 

_'_ _Did you know, Shinji, that snakes taste the air for their preys?'_

 

A pair of larger hands neatly - although Shinji was pretty sure that brush along his moistened wrists were quite unnecessary - swept the flowers off of him. Momentarily unbalanced by the sudden emptiness between his arms, he missed a chance to lean back when his lieutenant took a sniff near his neck.

"They've made you smell nice, anyhow,"

Refusing to be taken back, Shinji let out a huff. "No, _I_  make me smell nice."

Sousuke smiled and withdrew, giving Shinji space to secure the towel over his head as he divested himself of his haori. He was secretly thankful to whomever wrought the clothing as it had kept him from getting soaked to the bone. The same couldn't be said regarding his sodden sandals and socks that needed to removed as well. He briefly thought about going to his private quarters to put on a fresh clothing but decided not to bother. He'll change anyway when going to bed.

Shaking his bare feet and adjusting his slightly wet shihakusho, Shinji stepped into the office. Sousuke had put the stove on. The warmth of the room assailed Shinji's cold-seeped body, sending a prickling sensation that started from the top of his head and crawled down to his spine, making him shiver.

"I didn't expect ya ta be waitin' fer me at the office,"

It wasn't a question (perhaps an accusation), but his lieutenant took it as one. He answered without pause while he assigned each stalk to its respective place in a porcelain bowl full of water - Shinji had no idea where he even found it - perhaps he kido-ed the bloody thing into existence - just as efficient as he was in all his dealings.

"There was some paperwork that needed your final approval, captain. And also -" Sousuke turned, with the characteristic closed-eyes smile. "I had to make sure whether you weren't washed away by the flood. Otherwise, what kind of lieutenant would I be?"

Shinji opted to roughly rub at his face by way of a response.

"I can finish up on the paperwork while you take a bath, captain. The water should be hot by now - "

"Nah, enough bathing fer one day,"

It wasn't a lie. Once the water unpleasantly trailing down under his clothing was wiped away, he felt rather refreshed. Rain in Seireitei was one thing he didn't envy the Human World of its counterpart. He had experienced some bad deluges during his excursions, had been appalled at the stain left in their wake. The inky dust and pungent tang of rust picked up by raindrops as they descended through clouds of artificial steam that smelled of charcoal and iron.

"You'll catch a cold,"

Shinji merely shrugged at the disapproving tone of his lieutenant, who gave in with a sigh.

"Did you at least enjoy the feast?"

"Ya kidding me? With that kinda company? The sort that treat 'enjoyment' like some kinda embarrassing disease? And the founder of the feast a miser ta boot. Ya'd think he'd employ better caterin' fer his only daughter's special day," Shinji spoke gruffly as he wrung persistent droplets out of his hair, "Anyway, not fond of weddings. Reminds me ta much of funerals."

He looked up to see Sousuke's eyes widen a little, head cocking at a minuscule angle. The unbidden gesture made him look years younger, almost innocent. It was a look revealed during rare moments when Aizen Sousuke genuinely did not understand something (like the human music that Shinji was so fond of picking up). Shinji collected those moments as he did trinkets from his excursions, to replay them during unbearable afternoon meetings, during nights when sleep was late in coming. His little habit and a secret.

Not bothering to explain, (not that there WAS anything to explain, really.) Shinji changed the subject, "I still can't believe ya refused ta go in my stead,"

"The father of the bride isn't MY former superior."

"He expected ya too, 'Well, Captain Hirako, all by himself. What a surprise, I'd have thought you'd forget how to breathe without your trusty -' HA! '- lieutenant,' is what he said!"

"Well, considering what you've told me about him, a lieutenant's presence wouldn't have been the same as a captain's."

Shinji muttered something unintelligible. Born a minor aristocrat, Shinji's former superior obsessed over his social status as the truly great nobles never did. The invitation was apparently a means to use the presence of 5th Division's captain as a crowning ornament in his daughter's wedding. _Ah, yes, Captain Hirako, once under my command. Taught him all I knew_ _-_

"Thank goodness anythin' he attempted ta teach me slid right off my back."

"Yet you went."

"Well, he IS my former superior. That counts fer somethin',"

By now, Shinji was more or less dry and with the towel snugly wrapped around himself, he looked around the office. At his lieutenant's handiwork, to be exact. Various porcelain and earthenware - some Shinji was sure were originally for other purposes but looking happy enough to be servicing as vases - were arranged tastefully about the room with their share of white flowers and green shoots peeking out of them. It was nearly dark outside and under the dim lighting of the room, the flowers floated luminescent - miniature lantern bells that looked about to jingle at the slightest breeze.

"You are sometimes unexpectedly kind toward undeserving subjects, Captain Hirako,"

Shinji jerked his head to where Sousuke was ruffling the final bundle into a glass bowl.

"They won't last."

Although unsure whether the comment referred to the flowers, Shinji still replied, "What does?"

When Sousuke turned towards Shinji, he held a stalk in his hand, heavy with the weight of flowers it'd sired. Beautiful by itself but obviously found unfit for some inner standard that Sousuke has built for his arrangements. Sousuke ran his fingers along the edges of flowers, setting the white bells quivering. A forefinger settled on one of them, lightly teasing the downward petals aside and slipping in. The action caused Shinji's toes to curl.

"Lily of the valley," Sousuke mused as he softly assaulted the inside of the delicate bud, "One'd think people would be averse to using them for festivities. They are poisonous, after all,"

 

_'They're poisonous, Shinji. Fatal, even.'_

 

The same voice that had shared the knowledge of snakes tasting blood in the air echoed again from Shinji's memory, along with that particular tinge of laughter.

 

_'What a thing to have as a symbol for our division.'_

 

"Ya know, ye're the second one from this division ta ever mention that ta me," Shinji didn't realize he'd said it aloud before he saw those long fingers stop their movement. "One'd think there'd be a lot more."

Perhaps this was a fortuitous evening after all, to catch Aizen Sousuke in such moments twice. Something he had no intention of showing breaking through. Only, this was the opposite side of the same coin. The eyes behind the glasses darkened and the mouth settled into a thin line, making his face uncharacteristically hard. 

"Indeed?" The voice was toneless. The body it emanated from motionless like a statue. Yet there was tension to them. An edge. The flower-bud encasing a finger trembled at the sudden pressure. _You'll tear it._ Shinji thought, as he cataloged everything about the sight carefully in his memory.

He reached out and plucked the flower from his lieutenant's hands.

"Ya wanna finish up on that paperwork, Sousuke? I'll just keep watch so that ya don't slack off."

And the perfectly controlled demeanor was back again as if it'd never slipped.

"Of course, captain."

Sousuke settled behind his usual place behind the low desk. Shinji, on the other hand, plopped himself down on his sitting cushion like some imp out of a children's tale. Sousuke made no comment, too used to his captain's whims to trouble himself - at least when they were not in public. They soon settled into a sort of quiet rhythm where the only movements in the room were relegated to Sousuke's brush moving along the papers and the idle turning of the flower in Shinji's hand, with only short discussions and comments breaking the monotony. The contrast between the surrounding warmth and the leftover chill settled into a pleasant buzz along Shinji's body and he felt drowsy. The pouring sound outside was a white noise soothing the nerves and the heady fragrance in the room didn't help. Even when Shinji had the flowers right up to his nose during his walk, the smell of rain had overpowered the scent of flowers. Now, distilled by moist air, the wafting sweetness was strong. Almost drunk with the smell and lulled by the lullaby of rain, Shinji nearly nodded off but was startled awake as he felt the flower slipping from his fingers.

His heavy-lidded eyes met Sousuke's direct stare.

 _Oh, I'm doing that again._ Unbeknownst to himself, he had drawn his knees up to wrap his arms loosely around them, lowering his face until his cheek was pressing into the back of his hand. He had no idea where the habit came from, only that it was unconscious because he was only alerted to the posture by the reaction of others. The first time Rose had seen it, he'd nearly kicked the chair under Shinji, shouting that it was only 'legal' for a coy girl one tenth of Shinji's age to adopt such a posture. Hiyori _had_ kicked _him_ off the seat, rubbing off goosebumps, screaming about the irreversible damage the sight had done to her eyes.

With Sousuke, Shinji would know by the way he'd look up from his work, not breaking his gaze until Shinji shifted from his position.

Shinji humored his lieutenant for a while, responding to seemingly report-related questions that were really of no consequences. Then he prodded off the towel that had pooled around his ankles like a bored child would.

"Sousuke, ya actually gettin' anywhere with that report? Ya seem a wee preoccupied with admirin' me,"

The sarcasm did not touch the peaceful smile upon the brunette's face.

"I always thought you reminded me of something when you're like that, captain, "

 _Funny,_  Shinji thought, you _remind me of_ him _when you stare so -_

Sousuke pointed to the bowed stem in Shinji's hand, petal-tips tickling his exposed toes. "Now I know,"

Shinji snorted. "I look poisonous?"

"Drooping so, spilling light," Sousuke lifted himself up over his desk and Shinji craned his neck a little, causing blond hair to slide over his arms, down to his feet. Long fingers reached out towards the damp locks. "Bleeding such cloying fragrance,"

The fingers did not quite pick up the locks as they caused stray strands to snag upon them. _Sneaky boy,_ Shinji thought idly, _doesn't give me an excuse to pull back._ Sousuke let a few strands slip through his fingers, lightly brushing the back of Shinji's naked foot in the process.

"You're right, Captain Hirako, you do not need lilies, not when you're already scented so sweet,"

 _It's Sakanade,_ Shinji replied inwardly. Those that stayed near him long enough tended to notice the harmless yet lingering side-effect of his shikai. It was a source of constant teasing among his longtime friends. _People will think you're either stuffing yourself with sweets or pouring perfume - not even Shunsui does that. You'll be accused of being both vain and tasteless._

 

 _'It's a wonder you don't get dizzy with your own smell, Shinji. Not that I mind. Unlike some, it's a poison-free sweetness.'_  

 

"Oh, but it isn't,"

It was more like a sigh than actual words, yet the soft utterance made Sousuke look up. Shinji met his gaze with a skewed grin.

"That kinda talk actually work on anyone? Or does everyone just cringe as they rightly should?"

Shinji allowed himself to unfold slowly, joint by joint. He tossed his head, feeling his hair fall a little heavier than usual.

"Ya actually finished up on that report long ago, haven't ya?"

He held out his free hand, gracing his lieutenant with half a glance. Sousuke bowed his head lightly.

"Nothing escapes you, Captain Hirako."

Shinji just tutted, which turned into a yelp when Sousuke suddenly deposited a veritable mountain of papers so that Shinji had to employ both of his hands. _Bastard,_ Shinji breathed silently through clenched teeth.

"Shall I stay while you look over them?"

Shinji waved off his lieutenant as he juggled the stack. "I'd prefer ta do that on my own. So be off, Sousuke,"

Another bow, and his lieutenant turned smoothly. Only then Shinji realized the absence of the flower, lost during the fumbling of papers. After dumping the reports on the desk, Shinji turned just as Sousuke opened the door. The gust of cold air hit Shinji's open mouth and he gave into a coughing fit. Once recovered, Shinji found Sousuke standing at the threshold, looking at him over his shoulder.

"Oh, captain?"

"What?"

Slight tilt of the head, and the upturn curve of the mouth.

"I told you so."

 

* * *

  

The flower pinned on Aizen Sousuke's shihakusho caused some talk next morning. It became a source of mild excitement among the staff as well as gossip-mongers outside the division. All curious as to whether someone had finally managed to woo the highly popular yet impenetrable lieutenant.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, both lily of the valley and Japanese Andromeda are poisonous upon ingestion. 
> 
> The 'voice from the past' in Shinji's memory is an OC. Likely to be mentioned in later chapters. Aizen has never met him but he does NOT like him. 
> 
> In this chapter, Aizen's been Shinji's lieutenant for a while. The chapters aren't going to be in chronological order - it's going to go back and forth between timelines.


	3. Points of View: On Silken Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First 'official' meeting between Hirako and Aizen. Seen from a different point of view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this verse, Hell Butterflies have a 'different' kind of intellect than their Human World counterpart.

Generalization is a concept that sits comfortably among building blocks of any society. Sometimes for the sake of simplicity, sometimes out of necessity.

Soul Society being no exception.

Take Hell Butterfly House, for instance.

A breeding and training ground for the said species, the permanent shinigami presences are less than a handful, consisting of a few breeders and trainers who are grizzled old shinigami that have dug a niche for themselves. The job of guarding and caring for the creatures are usually relegated to the new recruits, who come and go like the seasons.

The manual of the Hell Butterfly House is strictly for the latter.

It is based on the _general_ characteristics and behaviors of the species. Thick and weighty (probably deadlier as a weapon than most of the zanpakutoes clinging uneasily to the sides of the new recruits) as it is, it does not - cannot - account for every exceptions. Exceptions that always happen and continue to be sources of catastrophes for the hapless young shinigami of the House as well as entertainment for the old ones residing there.

It does not, for example, mention that a Hell Butterfly would get easily distracted during its assignments, taking hour-long detours for every flight, and when confined to a separate corner of the House for disciplinary purposes, will spy a tear in the surrounding net and _somehow_   convince the caterpillars in the nearby breeding lot to chew through the netting, widening the tear enough to escape. It most certainly does not mention that it would harbor a grudge against its assigned caretaker for constantly calling the said butterfly 'good boy' while it was _apparent_ that she was a girl - and would lead other butterflies in her escape from the House out of spite.

Having committed all such crimes not listed in the Hell Butterfly House Manual (and having successfully sent her caretaker into a panic attack), now disengaged from the throng of escapees, the lone Hell Butterfly flapped leisurely above Seireitei like the proud rogue she was. She had a destination in mind: a giant building in gold and white. She'd never carried any messages there, but she knew it was always brimming with people even younger than her incompetent caretaker, and it'd had peaked her curiosity. With great expectation, she flew downwards as soon as she spotted the majestic golden roofs.

She was soon disappointed.

Compared to the grandiosity of the outside, its inside was shockingly stark - sparse, severe wooden interior with barely any colors.

And too many people, just too many.

Exhausted from the jostling movement, the heat, and the noise, she was just about to fly off when her senses picked up a faint sweet scent and an accompanying flash of light yellow. It reminded her of daylilies grown back at the House.

For her, it shone like a beacon among the array of black and white.

She flew straight towards it, alighting on the light strands. The surface beneath her tilted a little, her body swaying downwards in tandem.

"What're ya?"

She looked down at the partial view of an amber iris peering up at her.

The strands she was holding onto rippled as the head - for that was what she landed on - tilted to the other side.

"Ya have a message fer me?"

The butterfly flapped her wings noncommittally, which caused a 'hmm' sound from the owner of the color, sending a pleasant vibration along her feet.

"I don't remember applying for one of ya, I ain't up fer a trip there today..."

Another tilt. The butterfly mimicked the movement with her black head. After a moment, the voice spoke again.

"A slacker, are ya?"

The butterfly twitched her antenna and sank deeper into the golden strands. There was another light rumble felt by her sensitive feet that felt like a laugh.

"Well, I'm rather partial to 'em,"

A fingertip reached up towards her. She stretched out a spindly limb to meet it in a comradely clasp.

 

* * *

 

"Captain Hirako, there's a Hell Butterfly on your..."

"Yes, I know. It's alright."

"Um, captain, in your hair..."

"Yes, yes, I'm aware."

"Hey Shinji, there's..."

"I KNOW."

The rumor of 'The Captain with a Hell Butterfly in His Hair' spread quickly throughout the Shinigami Academy. This made Hirako Shinji unexpectedly popular among students who couldn't quite yet put proper names to the faces of the visiting captains. It also had the effect of making the more reserved students preferring the said captain for their one-on-one meetings, with some vague hope that a captain lenient towards a butterfly choosing his head as a perch would also be lenient towards whatever shortcomings they had. 

Such students soon found that a butterfly presence was one of the least quirky things about the captain.

All this was lost on the butterfly. She just enjoyed riding something else that moved in her stead. The shinigami she'd latched on walked with a slouch, as if always going against a current. But his actual movement felt more like idle floating rather than walking, reminiscent of her own airy strolls, the corresponding tickle of hair further reminding her of silken wing-clusters of her siblings back at the House.

She had almost fallen into half-dream of daylily fields when the shinigami settled into another seat in another area of the sprawling building. Soon, another shinigami entered the area and sat in the opposite seat. Sunlight caught sharply on his glasses, the glare rousing the butterfly. The glass-wearing shinigami spared an amused glance at her before fully turning his smile and attention to the captain. The conversation played out similar to the ones from before and she nearly succumbed to the lull of sleep again.

Then she realized it'd gotten completely silent.

Perplexed, she insolently flapped her wings - even that felt _loud_ in the suddenly quiet room. The one on the opposite side seemed equally flummoxed. He sat up straighter, the smile still in place but strained. Confusion apparent in brown eyes behind the glasses, the younger man finally spoke, "Captain...?"

A hand suddenly reached out of the haori, surprising both the young shinigami and the butterfly. It snatched the glasses off and before the confounded youth could do anything, the other hand draped over his face, pushing up the fringe and revealing the forehead. Benign eyes blinked, and the brown orbs wavered momentarily, defenseless without the glasses. The golden-headed shinigami leaned over, face only inches from the other.

"Faaaaaaake,"

Upon drawling out the word, the captain released his hold just as suddenly. After carelessly hanging the glasses askew on the young shinigami's face, the captain drew back, waving a hand. "Dismissed."

Considering what had just transpired, no-one at the Academy would've faulted the young shinigami's swift recovery - although this was wasted on the current audience. Having adjusted his glasses, the young man stood with graceful politeness and made a deep bow before making his exit. The butterfly's body shook a little at the huff the captain emitted at the retreating back.

 

* * *

 

 

The butterfly couldn't understand all the silly procedures that shinigami fussed over. But she sensed it when the beings called 'captains' were readying themselves to leave. She slowly stretched her wings and gave a fierce snap of wings, lifting off from her perch. But not before taking a souvenir - a stray golden strand - in her limbs. The butterfly saw the daylily shinigami glance up at her departure. He'd given her a wave and she'd whirled her antenna in reply.

That was only moments ago. Now she rested on a windowsill. Already bored but feeling too rebellious to return. She was aimlessly fidgeting with the golden lock when she felt a slightest tug. She turned to find familiar eyes behind glasses looking at her. Startled, the butterfly looked down to see the shinigami's fingers pulling at the end of the strand. Irritated, she glared at the shinigami. Who returned it - although she wasn't sure he even registered a butterfly's glare - with a gentle smile that would've melted any frigid atmosphere. Yet the fingers continued to toy with _her_ prize, which had a dampening effect. She twitched her antenna in warning.

_Back off. Get your own._

Somehow, she was sure that he understood, and gave a definite reply with the way his smile deepened. _Oh, but I am._

Annoyance turned to anger and she pulled at the strand, possessively wrapping the golden thread along her limb. The young shinigami tilted his head, brown eyes tinged with a different sort of amusement than the one he'd greeted her with before. _Are you sure?_

The window she sat on was quite high, just about the level of the shinigami's head. It wouldn't take much wing-beats to fly up to where he couldn't reach her. She gave the shinigami the butterfly equivalent of a scoff and took off.

At least, she thought she had.

Her wings remained still. Shocked, she tried to move her head. Then found that her whole body was rendered immobile, as if it'd been drenched in wax and cooled.

Panic set in when she felt oxygen being cut off, like an invisible hand was squeezing her.

Then the fear came.

There was absolutely no change in the shinigami - the same smile, the same unassuming posture. Yet sheer fear washed over her in overwhelming physical presence. Ice-cold frost holding her as molten fire burned her from the inside simultaneously. Her vision blurred and she didn't even realize it was due to her own shaking body - such violent tremors that threatened to tear her delicate wings apart.

Those long fingers reached out and gently unraveled the strand from her limbs. To her horror, the fingers didn't leave even after depriving her of her prize. Instead, they hovered  - draping a shadow over, and brushed lightly against her trembling wings.

"Good girl."

The shinigami turned, twirling his conquest around the forefinger in a mockery of her previous gesture. The butterfly watched him go, because she had no choice for anything else.

 

* * *

 

 

The unfortunate caretaker of the Hell Butterfly House was ready to  _kill_ the culprit behind the little exodus. However, the fire of his anger cooled down quickly when the butterfly returned barely alive, refusing food or flight for days afterwards. Even the old breeders were puzzled - for they could find no physical damage upon her - except for the self-harm she'd commit as she kept rolling on the hard ground, as if desperately trying to scrape something off her wings.

"Scared stiff, she is, scared out of her very life,"

The diagnosis from the oldest trainer failed to produce a cure. Only time provided it. The young caretaker had been secretly glad when she began to swat him again when he called her a 'good little boy'.

Yet the ugly incident would resurface like opening of an old wound years later - when the butterfly was tasked with sending a message to the 5th Division Lieutenant, Aizen Sousuke. She returned without delivering the message. The nightmare symptoms reemerged, continuing for days again. Eventually, the staff at the House concluded that certain butterflies must be averse to individuals wearing glasses. (They never even tried the theory out on Lieutenant Yadomaru, for fear of triggering the symptoms again.) So it was chalked off as another one of those exceptions.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus Shinji gives Aizen an idea for his future hairstyle. 
> 
> I'd like to believe that Hell Butterflies, like the shinigami, have long life spans. So I'm picturing this butterfly - when Aizen's Big Reveal happens - fluttering around declaring in the loudest Butterfly possible: "I KNEW IT!!!"


	4. A Night of Promotion and Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aizen's first night as a lieutenant. 
> 
> The first time he comes into contact with Hirako Shinji's past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of things I never saw coming when I started writing this fic: 
> 
> I did not expect to write any chapters from Aizen's point of view because... it's AIZEN. I didn't dare get into that head of his. But this chapter sort of happened and... well it happened. 
> 
> Also, I didn't intend any PLOT in the beginning. Then it insinuated itself in the form of a whole backstory regarding Hirako Shinji and the Fifth Division's former captain. So now, this apparently has something resembling an overarching plot. I'm afraid as to how to handle it but it just didn't go away...
> 
> I don't know if Aizen entered the division as a lieutenant to begin with or got enlisted as a ranked officer and then got promoted. For the purpose of this chapter, I opted for the latter.
> 
> Notes: 
> 
> *Onmitsukido = The Secret Mobile Unit/Second Division.
> 
> *The Wailing Alley is an original concept.

Aizen saw it coming miles away. Even minutely toyed with the idea of refusal just to gauge the reaction. Yet the _manner_ of its arrival had caught him unguarded.

"Um.... Fifth Seat?"

Aizen turned to find a very nervous-looking young shinigami accompanied by an older man, whose face conveyed that he was judging one's soul for its suitability to Hell.

Aizen greeted them both with his customary courteousness, to which the young shinigami hastily responded by almost bending double on himself. The other man, however, remained stiff. 

Throughout his life, Aizen had met very few that he couldn't get through. But some people just swatted away charming manners as they would a fly insolently flying at their faces.

With the same stony expression that he'd graced Aizen with upon their first meeting, the Third Seat of the Fifth Division flicked his chin towards the young shinigami.

"Hand it over to him, boy."

Shoulders hunched, the young shinigami stretched out both hands, a folded piece of paper in them. Again, Third Seat barked out an order. 

"Tell him."

The young man sputtered out a stumbling narrative: he was cleaning the barracks when he nearly crashed into Captain Hirako. As he frantically apologized, the captain had muttered, 'Might as well, before I forget.' And the next thing he knew, the captain had him wait while writing out a hasty note and stormed out after thrusting the paper into hands of the befuddled shinigami, with the instruction to deliver it to Fifth Seat.

"So I was on my way, sir, when I met..."

The young shinigami trailed off as he made a minuscule nod towards the Third Seat, who took up the report with more authority.

"I recognized the captain's handwriting and took it upon myself to unburden the boy from this ill-placed duty."

The 'boy' seemed like he wanted to contest the commentary if he dared. Third Seat didn't even spare a look at him. 

"Read the message out loud, if you'd please."

Aizen opened the document in question, a slightest crease forming between his brows. Captain Hirako's writing only grudgingly perched on this side of the legible at best of times. Here, the writing itself seemed to be in a hurry to trail after its master. Aizen had to read it letter by letter, deciphering as he went.

"You. Aizen Sousuke. Lieutenant. Now."

Aizen and the young shinigmai looked at each other. Stunned into silence by the sheer informality. Fortunately, there was one among them who remained unmoved. 

"I won't have it," declared the Third Seat in a gruff tone, "it's bad enough that the position had been vacant for so long - " _Although you_ _never seemed very cut up about it, sir,_  thought Aizen - "but to assign such an important promotion in such a... lackadaisical way? The captain may attend to his personal matters as he'd like, but I won't let such attitude overflow down the ranks, if I can help it. This is... a joke. In fact, I'm inclined to take it as one."

Aizen donned an apologetic smile, yet did not break away from the older man's stare as he carefully, neatly, refolded the message.

"Then, as the situation seems... up in the air until the captain clarifies the matter, we'll just have to wait until he returns. Meanwhile, I shall simply return to my current duties - "

"No."

The curt reply made the other two blink. 

"Since it _is_  the captain's message - as improper as it is - it'd be remiss of us to ignore it. So proceeding in your current duties may incur questions of insubordination,"

The younger shinigami, intimidation of rank momentarily forgotten in the face of such petty display of injustice, gaped at his superior. Aizen kept his smile, although it got a little thin.

"Well then, what do you propose we do? Third Seat?"

"Until the captain clears all this up through appropriate procedures - it is all 'up in the air', and that includes you, _Aizen -_  sir,"

The old man matched the words with a derisive gesture - a palm flicking upwards, tossing something imaginary towards empty air.

"Alternatively, you could go chase down the captain, try to bring him back a little earlier. Perhaps down the Wailing Alley."

With that, the Third Seat turned on his heels. The last view of his face wearing something disturbingly resembling a smile. 

The flustered young shinigami turned to Aizen.

"What - what will you do, sir? I mean, lieutenant - um - "

"Third Seat has given me a direction, at least."

The younger man's confused expression gradually changed into an almost pitying look. 

"Sir - um, lieutenant - sir, that's just Third Seat's particular expression. He says that anytime the captain's off without telling anyone-"

Aizen patted the younger man on the shoulder, bestowing his trademark calming smile.

"It's not as if I have anything better to do right now."

 

* * *

 

There was a reason for the young division member's incredulity.

The Wailing Alley was mostly a folktale, the kind used to scare disobedient children. Where vengeful ghosts and unspeakable monsters prowled, crying as insatiable hunger continually slashed at their bellies, and they, in turn, slashing at the unfortunates that stumbled into their dark domain. 

Although it had an acutal presence in real life.

It was technically the southernmost district of Rukongai, although most considered the city separate from it, acting as a buffer between Seireitei and the loathsome area. The more practically-minded knew it as a hideout for criminals. In fact, the outlaws practically ruled the area - so much so that it was treated as a sort of autonomous district.

Only a few knew the true function of the Wailing Alley.

A mere seated officer had no business prying into such matters. But Aizen Sousuke had done some 'personal' research - partly out of curiosity and partly out of its future potential.

The Wailing Alley was where the disgraced nobility were exiled to. 

Likely the Third Seat had sent him off on a wild goose-chase, but despite the research, Aizen had never visited the area in person and this was as good an excuse as any. 

Then there was Aizen's own assessment on the Third Seat's character. Underneath the exterior of a disgruntled officer lay a capable collector of others' secrets - the sort that pried into personal letters and listened at the door. Like any connoisseur worth their salt, such collections weren't for material gains. The Third Seat's coveted hoard of information was for personal enjoyment - including the times he used morsels of it to bait or prick others. 

For this round, Aizen was willing to play into the old man's hobby. And he had to admit, the possibility of his captain being associated with such a place intrigued him.

Normally, a random officer gaining entry would've required more ponderous procedures and raised eyebrows. But Aizen had made a point of making the guards owe him one or two favors, and he soon stepped into the notorious district for the first time. 

Ironically, due to its rather free-form modes of trade and surreptitious support from the nobles, more money flowed in the Wailing Alley than half of Rukongai citizens ever got to witness. And money meant business. 

One of such businesses snaked its hand around Aizen's elbow not long before his entry.

 _Onmitsukido lost a talent here._  Mused Aizen as a jet-haired woman, seemingly having materialized out of the shadows, leaned over to him.

"What's a gentleman like you doing here, all alone?"

He donned a suitably unassuming, yet not too inviting, smile.

"I'm looking for someone."

"We all are."

Wet scarlet lips rasped out a philosophical reply even as smooth hands moved about Aizen's body with a more earthly purpose. Aizen put his own hand over hers, lifting it slightly off his person to make sure that he meant to discourage, not the opposite.

"Someone specific, with long yellow hair - "

"Ah, you prefer blonds?"

The woman beamed up at him, undaunted. With a softer, but similar version of the smile he'd favored the Third Seat with, Aizen spoke again.  "It is regrettable, but I'm afraid I don't have time for this - "

At the same time, he moved his free arm towards his back, grabbing an errant hand that had been trying to sneak inside his shihakusho.

"- and not for that, either,"

Aizen whirled the culprit around, putting the thief between himself and the woman. The fresh-faced thief snarled and yanked at the caught hand. Aizen let go easily, causing the man - boy, really - crash backwards into the woman.

"Sis, you said this one'd be an easy catch!"

"He is, what do you call a fool of a shinigami who saunters here all alone?"

With that, other shadows sprang one by one behind the woman. Aizen gave a slightly exaggerated sigh.

"You can hardly expect a lone shinigmai to have anything of value."

"Depending on your standing, perhaps a ransom. Or at least some lesson for laying a hand on my little brother."

The woman snapped her fingers. The figures began marching forward -

Then darkness suddenly fell upon them.

It was nearing dusk when Aizen had got here, but surely, for the night to fall so suddenly...

The approaching crowd suddenly stumbled back, gaping at something over Aizen's head.

"Shit, it's the Crazy Thunder!"

Like garter snakes scattering before cartwheels, the swarm of robbers hurriedly disappeared into unseen nooks and crannies. Aizen turned, and had to look up.

Very far up.

The figure looming - and the word was apt, for it was like a house rather than a living creature - behind him blocked out both the sinking sun and the translucent moon. Aizen could barely make out the worn shihakusho. The description was a generous one to the tattered pieces of clothing that covered the figure - held miraculously together by gossamer threads and possibly a supernatural loyalty the uniform held for its master. 

A booming voice rumbled: "Division and rank,"

Aizen leaned back and the mountainous woman thrust her enormous face towards him. A hairpin that could have acted as a tent pole held her black tresses in a neat bun, which shook as she roared. 

"Division and rank!"

Aizen decided to take a page from the Third Seat - dangling a bit of information as bait.

"The Fifth,"

Nostrils like twin caves flared. "You lie," the words rolled out heavy and threatening as a lurching lava. Aizen decided a counter was in order.

"And you? You're in a shihakusho yet I see no zanpakuto..."

"I know everyone in our division and I don't know you!"

"Pardon me, but - "

"Mei!"

The woman lifted her head and looked over Aizen. "Shinji?"

Something brushed against his cheek and Aizen caught sight of a Hell Butterfly flying past to flutter around the two of them. He looked to where both the voice and the creature had come from and... faltered, a reaction foreign to him.

For a moment, Aizen doubted whether it really _was_ his captain standing there.

He had never seen his captain out of uniform. Yet here was Hirako Shinji, dressed in an orange yukata - haphazardly _thrown_ on rather than worn - but the most shocking feature was that long hair, gathered up and tied with a ribbon. 

Whatever surprise that showed on Aizen's face, however, was overshadowed by the one on his captain's.

" _Sousuke?!?_ "

"Cap-"

He must've used shunpo. For the next instant, Hirako Shinji had nearly crashed into Aizen - clamping a hand over the latter's mouth. The woman lowered her giant head towards them.

"You know this liar, Shinji?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"He said he's from our division!"

"He's - new."

While the captain's attention was occupied, Aizen stole a glance at his profile. With hair pulled back so, Aizen could clearly see the sharp contours of the face - lines all the way down to his neck. The yukata had slipped due to the sudden movement, revealing skin that pulled tightly - almost painfully - over the jutting collarbone and a part of a scar, like a desiccated vein, crawling up towards a bony shoulder.

Perhaps it was such sights that drove Aizen to such an impulsive action.

He wrenched off from the muffling hand just enough to speak, "Aizen Sousuke, lieutenant of the Fifth Division." He looked straight at the gaping face of his captain before smiling up at the woman. "Pleased to meet you."

Aizen would have dodged, but his captain had been expecting it and was faster in yanking him out of the way.

When the dust settled, they could see the crater that had formed on the ground.

The woman slowly retrieved her fist.  

" _Shinji_ ," she growled, voice quivering with fury, "is the lieutenant of the Fifth Division."

"He has a rotten sense of humor, Mei."

Aizen felt the other's hand squeeze his arm, nails digging in unspoken command:  _Play. Along._

The woman hung her head a little to the side, weighing in the placating words. She again lowered her head towards Aizen. A huff ruffled his fringe.

"I don't like you."

She whirled around to face the yukata-clad figure, almost whining, "Why d'you brung him, Shinji? I thought we were having a night out to ourselves - with Captain... "

Aizen watched the captain detach from him to approach the woman, patting her on the arm. 

"I know, but... the captain had an urgent matter to attend to, so I'm afraid the dinner's off tonight. I'll... have to join him soon as well. But he wanted me to take ya home first."

"Oh," she blinked. The next words tumbled out in a sedated tone, almost that of a disappointed child. "Maybe... next time?"

Aizen saw a wan smile flit past his captain's features.

"Next time,"

The blond took hold of a thumb the size of a man's fist - gently coaxing the woman forward. The other hand he flapped towards his subordinate. "Ya run along, Sousuke,"

"No."

The blatant defiance caught both listeners off-guard, and Aizen took advantage of that frozen moment by sliding in between them with his most meek expression.

"I was lost when you found me. I have no inkling of the way back, and it'll be night soon..." Aizen shrugged. "If it's an order, I must, of course, attempt to navigate the path but most likely you'll end up sending a search party for me. That is, if you'd care to."

Aizen didn't even bother to make it sound convincing and Hirako Shinji seemed to consider calling him out on it. After a full minute of neither one breaking the stare, the latter threw his head back with a groan, pressing a finger to his temple. Then he turned to the woman.

"Mei, sorry 'bout this. But do me a favor and bear with 'this' -" a thumb jerked towards the brunette - "for a while? Try not to flatten him?"

The woman replied with a pout. "I'm telling Captain that I don't like him."

There was that wry smile again in place of an answer. Hirako Shinji waved a hand and the butterfly circled above them once and began to fly towards a direction. The woman lumbered after the creature, with the blond right beside her. Aizen silently followed.

The two were apparently close, judging by the way they chatted all the way. Although Aizen noticed that the topics were at least decades old, some incidents and establishments mentioned he'd only encountered in texts or stories from older shinigami.  Yet the two of them, especially the woman, talked about such things as if they'd happened yesterday.

Aizen hadn't been lying about the time. Darkness soon descended and the only light source became the one emitted from their flying guide, enveloping them in a bar of faint glow. From a distance, they must've looked like a strange glowworm threading a path through a thick forest of pitch black. Aizen discerned that the unnatural glow was an elaborate kido coded into the creature. Another aspect of the kido seemed to relate to the one cast on the path itself - it'd been impossible for anyone to find the road they were led without this particular butterfly.

This was nothing less than the work of a top master from the Kido Corps.

A presence bumping into him stirred Aizen out of his reverie.

Hirako Shinji hissed low in his ear. "What the Hell were ya thinkin', trudging in here? A shihakusho sticks out like a sore thumb 'round these parts!"

" _She's_ wearing one,"

The retort was more fitting to an impudent child, quite unbecoming of an officer - let alone Aizen himself. He probably deserved the look his captain gave him.

"She... lives here."

"Yes, I figured that was so."

 _And, here we are, speak of the devil._ Aizen thought as they stopped in front of a black gate that was nearly unrecognizable from the darkness surrounding them. Aizen looked up, no sign nor crest indicating the family title.

They waited as the butterfly hovered over the gate. Under the concentrated halo, Aizen caught a first good look at the ribbon holding his captain's hair in place. Redder than the robber woman's lips had been, its coils twisting about the light-colored strands, it reminded Aizen of a gaping, dripping wound. He felt a sudden urge to free those pale locks from that bloody bond. 

Instead, he contented himself with reaching out to pull the yukata more tightly over his captain's shoulders. The latter looked at him with mild irritation and curiosity.

"Shall I introduce ya as my nanny?"

"Ah, so you were planning to introduce me, what an honor."

Hirako Shinji merely gave a snort, at the same time, the heavy gate creaked open. A head of a girl poked through the crack, looking fearful at first then softening with relief upon sighting the gargantuan woman. The girl dragged the door further and Aizen could see through the widened opening a spacious courtyard, and far yonder, stone steps leading up to a sizable main building - befitting a nobility's domain. This was in line with the girl's attire - a typical servant's garb at a noble's household.

Much like the captain's previous actions, but with much more humility, the girl led the woman in, whispering about how she should get back to her room. The woman looked back at Hirako Shinji, who gave a reassuring smile and a wave - _Go on_  . At last, she fully turned and disappeared into the inner parts beyond the courtyard.

The girl sighed and bowed deeply to the captain. "Hirako - sama," she whispered, voice trembling as if she were on the verge of tears. "Please forgive me, but there is no one else to ask. Not when she gets like this..." Only then did she notice Aizen standing a little further behind and started. Hirako Shinji flicked a glare towards Aizen and shook his head a little  - _Don't mind that one._ Still looking suspiciously at the other shinigami, the girl took out a container wrought of wood and rice paper. Inside lit by a luminous glow much like the one emitted by their butterfly's. The girl opened a hatch and the butterfly flew inside, the twin flutter-lights dancing inside their translucent cage. _Ah, so that's how the kido within_ _the butterfly  -_ butterflies _\- worked_ \- Aizen observed - _attuned to go wherever its_ _sibling was_. Closing the container, the girl murmured again, "I truly thank you for bringing her back... otherwise..."

She yelped and nearly dropped the cage as the captain's hand suddenly shot over her. She froze when she saw the hand holding a fist that'd appeared behind. A fist that'd been about to strike her.

The servant girl stumbled back, falling on hands and knees.

"En...Enzou sama...!"

"Go, go in, stay with Mei."

Hirako Shinji spoke, eyes never leaving the newcomer - who swore and tried to twist away from the grip without success. 

"Go."

The girl obeyed. Scrambling up on her feet, picking up the fallen cage, she ran towards the same direction the giant woman had disappeared to.

The man - only discernible by silhouette since the single light source was gone with the girl - snarled.

"Useless, I'll make sure she's properly punished for this insolence."

"Really? Ya grow a new pair of balls since I last saw ya, Enzou? Ya know ya'd have to go through Mei first."

With an animal growl, the man made another attempt to get away. This time, Hirako Shinji let go, making the man trip backwards by the sound of it. 

"You dare put a foot in this household, Hirako? And - " The man's head flicked towards where Aizen was - "- you bring your - _minion_ with you?!? Have you no shame at all - "

"Don't waste your words, Enzou,"

A voice rang clear. There was a clap and the courtyard became alight as kido fire flared up from all corners, burning unnatural blue like will-o-the-wisp.

"I will not tolerate useless tantrum in this house,"

A woman was coming down the stone steps. Dressed in black, pattern-less garment with short sleeves that resembled the uniform of Onmitsukido. The lean muscles underneath the tight-fitting clothing and the grace of movement did justice to the association. She came close enough so that Aizen could see her clearly. Short black hair framed a boyish face that'd been called charming if not for the reptilian sheen in her eyes.

Those eyes swept over the young man called Enzou, Hirako Shinji, to rest over Aizen.

"Ah, if it isn't the golden graduate of the Shinigami Academy, oh wait, it's now called Shino Academy, isn't it? Aizen Sousuke, if memory serves,"

Aizen looked his captain. Receiving no cues, he bowed lightly towards the woman who merely flicked her chin towards the other.

"I only half-believed it when I heard you got him. It never ceases to amaze me how you manage to snare fine things for yourself, Hirako."

"Depends on how ya look at it,"

At Hirako Shinji's reply, the wiry man - whose face under the lights was contorted with pure hatred - looked about to jump him if not for the woman holding up a hand. Not even deigning to acknowledge the man's aggression, Hirako tilted his head a little.

"Quite informed still, I see."

"Few of the pleasures still allowed to an exile,"

The woman nonchalantly took up one of the kido-lighted lamps.

"Well, let me see you out. It's the least I could do for bringing Mei back."

"Lady...!"

"If you're accompanying me, do keep quiet, Enzou."

The young man breathed in, seemingly about to burst with impotent rage but managed to gulp it down, bowing deeply as the woman brushed past him. Hirako Shinji took off after the woman Aizen followed suit, glancing once at the young man whose baleful gaze stayed fixed on his captain's back. Only well after they went past the gate could Aizen sense him shadow them.

"You really should visit in your formal uniform, Hirako," said the woman, "considering how you won it, you should at least flaunt it. Otherwise, my brother might feel insulted from yonder. Oh, I know..." The woman turned slightly so that the glow from the lamp melted along her profile, cold and sleek like a line of scales. "It is for our little Thunder's sake. But do you not think it cruel to sustain her delusions?"

"Ya gotta let Mei go," Aizen was a little surprised to hear his captain reply. "Let her live with the ones who are willin' and capable of takin' care of her,"

"You know she will not leave this house of her own volition."

"She will if ya tell her to,"

"You ask me to deny her of the only home she's ever known? You'll take away even that from her?"

"Ya _know_ what's gonna happen to her if she ever stumbles down to Seireitei."

"Has it ever occurred to you that that may be what she wants? At least a part of her that is not locked up in the past? After all, what purpose does a guard dog have in life, once it has failed to protect its master?"

"And ye're different?"

The woman stopped and turned. for an instant, something like an emotion flickered in her eyes that reflected the azure flame. Her lips curled.

Hirako Shinji saw it coming and didn't even blink.

Neither saw Aizen coming in between them.

By the time they recovered, the woman's spit was dribbling down Aizen's glasses, down to his chin. 

"I'm sorry to interfere," Aizen spoke calmly, "but as a lieutenant, I cannot stand by and let any more aggression be directed towards my captain."

The woman narrowed her eyes into slits, sneering at both of them.

"Well then, let's part ways here. Go, Hirako, with your _loyal_ _lieutenant._ "

The last words were spat with the same force as the one that'd hit Aizen.

It was Hirako Shinji who tugged at Aizen's sleeve, practically dragging him away. Behind their backs, the voice of the man called Enzou bellowed: "Ask him, lieutenant! Ask how he betrayed his captain's trust! Ask him how he murdered his captain by trickery! How he usurped his seat! Ask him!"

 _Ask him! Ask him!..._ The echo chased them down as they reached the road outside the forest path they've been treading.  _It truly is,_ Aizen mused, _the wailing street._

Once they'd reached a paved area with some streetlights, Hirako Shinji stopped. He sighed and turned, holding something out. Aizen blinked, half of his vision clouded still by spit.

"Captain?"

"'tis a 'kerchief, ya know what it's fer, no?"

Growing impatient at his subordinate's hesitance, Hirako Shinji roughly dabbed at his chin, then at the glasses. Aizen eventually took hold of the proffered cloth with words of thanks.

"Why the Hell would ya be using yer face like that?"

Aizen chuckled a little, assuring his captain that he'll return the handkerchief after cleaning it. _(He does clean it. He never returns it._ _His captain never mentions it, either.)_ Hirako Shinji just waved the words away and fixed him a stare.

"So, lieutenant, eh? Ya made the choice?"

"I beg your pardon, captain. But... you are the one who made the choice."

The captain cocked his head, almost looking up at Aizen sideways. "That so?" He continued to stare at his lieutenant, like a puppet fixed in a comical position. As Aizen shifted half-deliberately, Hirako Shinji swiftly turned and started on his way.

"Ye're not askin' questions," Hirako Shiji spoke after they took few steps down the road. "Discretion, just what one looks fer in a lieutenant."

"It would be indiscreet, yes, to openly pry into a superior's personal business when the said superior does not offer explanation first," Aizen let the frowning expression of the said superior pass right through him. "But I admit, the past few hours caused me to recall a certain story I've heard. If you would not think me disrespectful for sharing it..."

"Ah, count me intrigued, _lieutenant_ ,"

Aizen ignored the exaggerated inflection on the last word.

"I remembered a rumor... more of a legend, really, long before my time. It was about a certain shinigami without a zanpakuto. Never needed one, for her fists were like the hammer of a god. So people called her Narukami(鳴神 - Thundering God) or Kaminari(雷 - Thunder),"

The figure walking before him offered no comment. 

"She was the first one to rise to an officer rank without a zanpakutou. The accounts get confused but one of the candidates for her division is the Fifth,"

The man in front didn't break his pace. Aizen continued.

"You called her... Mei(鳴 - Thundering/rolling), captain."

The sway of golden locks stopped, only a few strands blowing in the night breeze.

Hirako Shinji looked over his shoulder.

"Discreet and perceptive. Really struck gold, haven't I?"

"Speaking of being perceptive, captain, I couldn't help noticing that we're being followed. And I believe they intend to do more than following,"

"Indeed?"

Aizen moved his hand towards his zanpakuto. But before it reached the hilt, another hand took hold of it. Startled, Aizen looked at his captain, to meet with an unexpected grin.

"Wanna play a game, Sousuke?"

"Pardon?"

"I have a feelin' ye're not the type to play games,"

The captain pulled Aizen's hand, whirling around simultaneously.

"Too bad, ye're playin' one right now. It's a mix of 'hide-an-seek' and 'tag'."

Before Aizen could say anything, the captain broke into a trot with him in tow.

A blade embedded itself where their feet'd been.

It was obviously a signal, for others soon followed. Aizen could sense at least a dozen presences in pursuit, caught glimpses of black figures leaping about, torn pieces of the night sky fluttering around them. Yet the hand locked to his prevented any act of - no, the idea of any serious retaliation. It felt like the two of them were a couple of reckless children running out to play, dodging unwanted duties rather than two shinigami officers dodging deadly assassins.

Even when the attackers revealed themselves more solidly by dropping from walls and surrounding trees, the captain's grip didn't slack. Blades and limbs came with murderous intent and were avoided within a hair's breath. Their run had bled into a dance, the two of them weaving a path of complicated twists and turns. Through it all, the long golden tail whipping about wildly dominated Aizen's vision. If he allowed himself, he could fall into a trance watching its wanton movements, perhaps he was already half-mesmerized. 

Only when they reached the area that Aizen recognized as being near the entrance did Aizen took the pace into his own hands. The captain halted suddenly, a dart whizzing past the edge of his yukata as he snapped backwards. Tutting, he moved to slide behind a tree when Aizen suddenly yanked the surprised captain into his arms, with the latter's back flush against his chest, as he murmured the incantation to a defensive kido. 

The numerous darts bounced off the barrier that rose up around them in six sides. Except one of the sides bent over their heads, shooting like a giant black ribbon, towards nearby treetop. There was a cry as the kido flung the assailant over the branch down to the bushes below. 

Aizen felt fingertips lightly tap his chin.

"Attaboy," the captain muttered, without making it sound like a compliment. "And if ya'll now _move_ ,"

Wrapping an arm around Aizen's waist, HIrako Shinji neatly whirled him around, catching a hand that was about to drive a knife from behind them. He let go of Aizen and twisted the arm of his attacker until the knife dropped. The other hand took off the assassin's black hood, revealing a hoary head with a beard the color of frost.

"Furumiya, thought it was ya. Also thought ya too sensible fer this,"

Hirako Shinji muttered close to the man's ear. The man stopped struggling but his body remained taut.

"We have an honor to prove, sir,"

"To whom?"

"To the House, to the dead, to ourselves," Aizen saw the older man's mouth tighten into a slit of a smile. "Perhaps they are all one and the same to you,"

Aizen could feel the rest of the pursuers gather a little away from them, partially hidden and immobile, watching. The captain sighed. "Listen, just tell Enzou ya've chased us to the edge of the district and lost us. Ya know he doesn't really expect ya to succeed. _Ya_  don't expect to succeed,"

Hirako Shinji released the man and stepped back. "Tell him my new _lieutenant_ -" the word was granted an exaggerated emphasis again - "was a _beast_. Put a few nicks upon yerselfs to make it convincin' if necessary."

With the tip of his toe, the captain kicked the fallen knife up, deftly catching it and throwing back at the older man, who caught it. He slowly sheathed it away somewhere about his cloak. Then he spoke softly, without malice, without anything - emptiness ringing hollow.   

"It'd been better if you had killed us all back then, Hirako-dono."

"Well, sorry fer bein' so inconsiderate."

The older man turned, slouching a little. Aizen wondered if it'd been a gesture of respect or simply a show of shame.

Putting his hood back on, the man disappeared into darkness.

Hirako Shinji huffed and stood to the side of the road, signalling Aizen to move. Aizen was about to say 'After you, captain,' but then realized the intent behind the action when he glanced at the darkness where the black figures had melted back into. 

_You don't trust me to not follow them once your back is turned._

Aizen stepped past his captain with a bow - for normally the action would be disrespectful - and walked on. Only when the road diverged did Hirako Shinji overtake him, leading him on as before. Aizen smiled at his back.

It looked like both their choices would turn out interesting.

 

* * *

 

Their return, however, did not quite mark the end of the night. 

Once they'd reached the division barracks, a familiar figure rushed out to greet them. Aizen unthinkingly - he really was committing unfamiliar acts this night - stepped forward to shield his captain. Which garnered him a strange look from the man. _(Aizen never did explain his reasons -_ _of which he really became aware of only later. Never voiced out loud how he loathed anyone to look at Hirako Shinji like that - out of uniform, hair bound. How it'd felt akin to letting someone look upon his naked body.)_

It was, of course, no use. The young shinigami who had been the bearer of the message that started it all stopped and gawked at their captain. He only unfroze when Aizen gave a gentle cough.

"I, er, I - captain! And... um... lieu...?"

The young shinigami looked cautiously between the two of them. The captain gave a nod and as if it'd flipped a switch, words gushed out of the young man.

"I - the Third Seat! I tried to stop him, sir! But he just wouldn't... I couldn't... I'm so sorry captain - lieutenant -"

Only after Aizen had doled out soothing words did the young man become somewhat coherent.

"You see, the Third Seat has - well, cleared your, that is, Lieutenant Aizen's, quarters, a-actually turning it into a storeroom, to be exact,"

The blinking visages made him realize that further explanation was in order, which he hastened to supply.

"Once you, that is, Lieutenant Aizen - were gone looking for captain, the Third Seat, well, said that since you, Lieutenant, couldn't act as the Fifth Seat at that point, so it wasn't right to leave your room among the other staff since a lieutenant is traditionally given a separate quarter near the captain's. So... might as well get to it quickly, he said."

"...But, he actually didn't bother to set up the said lieutenant's quarters?"

The young shinigami furiously bobbed his head, grateful that the captain had spelled out something that he hadn't been willing to.

"....one thing at a time, he said, and it wasn't yet 'official', so..." The shinigami was almost in tears. "I tried to stop him! But... he already has your room, er, your former room, boarded up, sir! With all your possessions inside...! But now that the captain is here, perhaps we could all go together and..."

Captain Hirako stepped forward, patting the young shinigami on a shoulder in a similar manner that Aizen had done that very afternoon.

"It's much too late, only a few hours before morn'. No use waking up anyone at this time. Sousuke can secure a lodgin' outside the division or somethin' for the night."

'Ya go and get some shut-eye,' The captain practically turned the young man around and pushed him towards the barracks. The young shinigami kept looking back but as the captain waved at him - not so different from the way he treated 'Mei', Aizen thought - he made an awkward bow and walked away.

Captain Hirako gave a sigh and swept past Aizen, addressing him without looking at him. "Our Third Seat, I'm sure ya realize, has no teeth to speak of so stores up on the bile. If ya can't handle him, ye're no lieutenant material."

"Of course, captain. Then, permission to leave the division barracks for the night -"

"What fer?"

"To acquire a lodging as you said, captain - "

"Don't be silly, Sousuke, I just said that to put the poor kid at ease. What's the use of wastin' division budget on somethin' like this?"

'I can pay my own-' Aizen started but his captain motioned him to follow.

Eventually they stopped in front of a building that stood a little separate from the rest of the barracks.

Hirako Shinji pushed the door open. Upon entering, he noticed Aizen standing still behind him and looked over.

"What'ya doin' just standin'?"

"Captain, this is your private quarters,"

"Good, we can add 'observant' to the many qualities ya have as a lieutenant."

Contrary to the words, the gesture beckoning him in conveyed annoyance and Aizen had to enter.

Moonlight streamed aplenty through the wide window and Aizen could see silhouettes of... _things_ cluttering the corners. Once Hirako Shinji lighted the lamps, the silvery, translucent blue gave way to golden glow, somehow making the space feel smaller, closed-in, more intimate.

Beyond the cushions, the futon, and the sitting desk rolled about objects that formed a chaotic collage against the inner walls. Aizen supposed most of them were procured - possibly against the division policies - from the Human world: curiosities and knickknacks, paintings and embroideries of burning colors, frosted and tinted glass, milky porcelain and contraptions of wood and steel - it was an interesting mess, the kind one'd like to sort through rather than clear. An image of a skinny dragon, sitting atop his colorful hoard with a crown of gold, floated unbidden into Aizen's mind. 

The whimsical thought dissipated at the sight of his captain pulling at the ribbon in his hair, undoing the knot.

As Hirako Shinji shook his head, golden locks tumbled free to drape heavily over his back.

Aizen felt a little relieved at the sight.

Unaware of it all, the captain proceeded to lay out a blanket across the futon. 'The bathroom's over yonder if ya need it -' with a sweeping gesture that vaguely indicated the direction, the captain sat himself down in front of the low desk, ruffling through mounds of paper.

After a few minutes, Hirako Shinji glanced up at his immobile subordinate.

"Ye're still standing,"

"Captain, I couldn't possibly sleep here,"

Hirako Shinji frowned.

"I ain't bringin' out a brand new futon just for ya,"

"No, I meant - where will you sleep, captain?"

"I don't feel like sleeping tonight," Hirako Shinji stretched languorously - "besides, with both of us bein' gone, no paperwork'd been done. So I might as well be catchin' up on some - "

"Then, I will stay up and work with you - "

With an irritated _tsk_ , the captain caught hold of his lieutenant's sleeve and pulled. Thus forcibly sitting the latter onto the futon, he put his palm on Aizen's forehead and pushed until the head hit the pillow. 

"Down, that's an order." Declared Hirako Shinji as he leaned over his subordinate, still pushing. Loose locks poured towards Aizen, tickling his face. A warm smell, tinged with cloying sweetness, wafted from the body above him, coating Aizen's tongue, weighing down the protest he was about to make.  The yukata had hung open, and Aizen caught a glimpse of a greater part of the scar he had sighted before, a web of raised flesh, branching pale-pink around a darker-hued nipple -

Aizen lost his chance for good as the blanket was pulled over his face, effectively muffling him. When Aizen managed to push it down to his chin, his captain already had his back to him, stooping over the papers on the desk. _(Later, when he knew more, Aizen would wonder if the former captain of the Fifth Division ever had his lieutenant_ _sleeping in his room like this. Even later, when he understood more,_ _Aizen would wonder how many times the former captain had snuck into_ _Hirako Shinji's room, falling into sleep as he watched his lieutenant's_ _light-covered back just like this.)_

Absently, Hirako Shinji lifted one arm to pull up a drooping sleeve. Aizen noticed an ink-stain on the heel of that hand, like a blooming bruise. _(The handkerchief had been clean, Aizen remembered.)_

Seeing that hand dangling from the narrow wrist, incongruous against the voluminous folds of the yukata, Aizen was struck with the same feeling as when he first saw his captain back in the Alley - with the setting sun behind him, bright yukata bleeding into dusk, almost disappearing. He'd looked ungainly, with those too-thin wrists and ankles all bare. Vulnerable, that was how Hirako Shinji had looked.

_Breakable._

With trails of soft gold filling his vision, Aizen Sousuke closed his eyes.

The next moment he opened his eyes, he was surprised to find sun upon them. His glasses were gone. Groping around his pillow found them sitting skewed on the edge of futon.

As he put them on, Aizen realized that his hair had been slicked back.

The desk beside was empty of its owner, only strewn paper and brush still tipped with ink occupying it.

Aizen got up and quietly slid the door open.

Outside, Hirako Shinji sat curled up on the porch. Legs gathered close with arms encircling them, a cheek pressed to a knee, and a haori loosely over his shoulders.

Upon the head of the dozing figure, morning light landed to crumble into flakes that settled on the yellow mantle pooling on the wooden surface. 

Aizen reached out, a hand hovering over that head, strands catching onto his fingers - and drew back.

 

That was how Aizen Sousuke spent his first night as a lieutenant. Chasing his captain down the street of ghosts, falling to sleep encased in warm gold.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is the tradition of the Fifth Division for its captain and lieutenant to spend at least one night in the same room, before one tries to kill the other. 
> 
> How a character is referred to (by their given name or surname) depends on the POV and the time period a chapter is set in.


	5. Points of View: Dinner, with a Side of Gossip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dinner conversation between friends veers towards a certain captain-lieutenant pair. 
> 
> …Or perhaps two pairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Umeboshi: Pickled Japanese salt plums usually served as a side dish. 
> 
> * Namagashi: A traditional Japanese confectionery. Made with flour, eggs, bean paste, sugar, and fruit jellies. Some look like a sort of mochi. Very colorful and of various shapes. It’s traditionally for tea ceremony but I’ve just treated it as a dessert at the end of a meal here.

"Say, what about Shinji and Aizen?"

Rojuro Otoribashi startled a little as all eyes at the table riveted on him simultaneously, as if his throwaway comment were an unwitting grip that pulled together the invisible strings connected to them.

Muguruma Kensei sighed as he stretched, lounging skewed in his chair, ignoring the complaint from his lieutenant accusing him of pushing into her space.

"You see, Rose, this is why everybody is wary about you being a captain,"

"Wait a minute, who exactly is this 'everybody'-"

"Well, nearly a month before it's official, maybe we can sign a petition or somethin' - "

"Wha-?!? The Hell-? Rose? When?!? HOW?!? What IDIOT made this git a captain? Ye all jokin'?"

"Hiyori, if you spent half as much time _listening_ to people as you do _kicking_ them -"

"Right, Love, that’s exactly my point," Kensei said as he rapped the table, "it's an important factor in being a captain, Rose, being able to listen and _understand_."

"The only thing I'm failing to understand here is why I'm accused of not listening,"

"We were talking about the best pair of captains and lieutenants. Not the worst, not the most ill-fitting, the BEST."

"What's wrong with _my_ pair? They're practically always together, like a needle and a thread."

"That's because that poor boy Aizen's always chasin' Shinji to pin him down for actual work."

"Right you are, Lisa, or Shinji's dragging him around only to dump any duties he doesn't want to be bothered with."

"I wonder if Shinji has any idea of all the resentment he’s accumulatin’ among that boy’s many, many admirers. I swear he’s gonna get murdered by them one of these days, hoggin’ that boy like that,"

"But we already have the right answer for the best pair - it's Mashiro and Kensei!"

The airy voice floated right over the table members' heads, with Kensei sending a long-suffering look at his lieutenant. Only Ushoda Hachigen offered a supporting smile towards her, which was received with a blank look and promptly forgotten. The Kido Corps member was not at all offended, knowing full well the character of the Ninth Division lieutenant.

It'd have been a surprise to an outsider that this motley group of Seireitei's elite force sitting at the same table was largely a product of coincidence: It'd started out as a night out between the three female lieutenants - which Kuna Mashiro deemed important enough to shirk her leftover work that evening, which prompted her captain to chase her all the way down to the restaurant in righteous fury. At the reserved table they found Sarugaki Hiyori trying to kick away Rojuro Otoribashi. The latter secured his position by latching onto Captain Aikawa - who'd innocently walked into the place in search of a simple meal - and in turn, also onto Captain Muguruma, declaring that dinner was on the captains. The most incongruous addition was Ushoda Hachigen, who had been doing shopping nearby when Yadomaru Lisa came upon him, fashionably late to the very meeting she'd arranged. Then she'd casually kidnapped the Kido Corps member to join them, her manner not much different from that of a girl randomly picking up a doughy, benign cat. And so ‘Hachi’ sat comfortably as a background, quietly nursing his oolong tea.

Kensei continued to rip holes in Rose's theory.

"And Shinji complains constantly what a slave driver of a lieutenant he's saddled with, saying things like how everyone's fooled by that docile facade, and whatnot,"

"Well, I thought that was just habitual ranting, kinda like how our Lisa’s always dissing Captain Kyoraku about how much of a fool he is, but really, _we_ know she thinks much of him."

"True, that. I think much of that fool, about how much of a fool he is, to be sure."

“Well, four-eyes ain’t a complete doormat. Whenever that idiot Shinji talks stupid – like all the time – he talks right back, makin’ no bones ‘bout it either. No flinchin'. Of course, that gets that idiot riled up all the more.”

"Definitely a... conflict of personalities, between Shinji and Sousuke," murmured Love, in a reserved support towards Kensei.

Hiyori snorted at her absent friend's - although anybody using that word to her face would've gotten _their_ faces squashed - general foolishness. 

"Beats me why that fool wanted him in the first place. Well, not that dumb Shinji has any reasons for doin' anythin',"

"Huh? You mean Shinji actually _asked_ for Aizen?"

"Well how the Hell did ya think he _got_ him? Someone bundled him up and dropped him off at the Fifth Division barracks? Stupid Shinji won him at a gamble?"

Kensei's expression conveyed that such possibilities were more likely in his mind than Shinji actually _requesting_ the Academy for possibly _the_ most model member of Gotei 13.

"It's just that... Shinji had nothing good to say about him - "

"He was about the only one - "

"- when captains visited the Academy for graduate-scouting. Huh, I'm surprised Shinji ended up with Aizen at all. I mean, weren't many other divisions itching to grab him upon graduation?"

"Didn't Captain Kyoraku try to enlist him as well?"

"Sure, asked me to put in the form to the Academy, only I didn't," The lieutenant of the Eighth Division adjusted her glasses in an aloof manner. " _Two_ cool-headed, overly competent staff too good for their captain in one division? It'd been an unnecessary overlap in character. Although I don't expect my crude captain to realize such subtleties."

"...I think you meant _clash_ in character, Lisa,"

"I'm sure Kensei didn't, he has me after all, the Great Kuna Mashiro! No need for extra members,"

"How 'bout you, Love? Guilty?"

In a sudden bout of diplomacy, the two captains began to pay ardent tribute to their respective drinks. They were thankful when Hiyori's raucous voice rose again.

"So yeah, no idea how idiot Shinji got Aizen, probably some dolt got the papers mixed-up - "

"Oh, you mean none of you knew?"

Once again, Rose's words drew everyone's attention. Only this time, the subject of scrutiny was ready for it, rather enjoying it.

"Okay, I have a bit of an insider information - there's this lady officer among the Academy admin that I'm serenading-"

"I thought you were done serenadin' her. Or is throwing sake at your face just a unique couple ritual between you two?"

" - and she told me an anecdote about that particular year. "

A subtle change swept through the table, the sort that happens when an idle conversations finds a focus and stops being idle. Riding on the changed air, Rose drawled on.

"She remembered it because it was so unexpected. Yeah, Shinji was the first captain to want Aizen. And, well, knowing his... carefree... nature, (“Knowin’ his IDIOCY,” muttered Hiyori.) she thought it best NOT to pair the two up. So she was surprised to find that Aizen Sousuke had applied for the Fifth. No backup choices. Just that. And since the Academy tries to take into account both the captains' and the graduates' preferences..."

Rose spread his hands rather theatrically, encompassing the sudden stillness that settled over the table. After a moment, Love spoke.

"Perhaps he had a noble purpose in mind, trying to cause change from the inside, something like that."

"If he intended that, I don't think he's succeeding."

"The division _did_ become more popular due to him being the lieutenant. Maybe _that_ was Shinji’s plan.”

“No way, yer giving that fool too much credit.”

"Anyway, going back to my theory," Rose piped in again, more confident on his newly-earned vantage point, "weren't they pretty tight even before Aizen became a lieutenant?"

"They really had no choice. You know how the Third Seat is in that division. And Shinji only doing paperwork when fancy takes him. Aizen was practically the only ranked officer left to do any close work with the captain."

"I keep tellin' him he's spoiling that idiot more with all that attention. It's annoyin' as Hell to watch. Even doin' the idiot's hair and all. Didn't know which one to kick when I first saw it,"

Hiyori downed her drink as she muttered. Upon lowering her cup, she was surprised to find that she'd inadvertently switched places with Rose as a new center of attention.

"What?"

"Sorry, I misheard, Hiyori. Doing what?"

"Actually, I saw that too, when I went over to the Fifth Division for a joint mission report,"

"Wait a minute, and you didn't say anything, Rose? That's a rather rum thing for a captain to ask from a subordinate."

"Well - I didn't even realize it at first. And it wasn't like Shinji _asked_ for it. One moment we were just talking work, with Aizen joining in, and the next, I suddenly noticed - " Rose made a brushing motion with his own hair - " - It was awkward to mention because neither seemed aware of it. Kinda like how you unconsciously start playing with whatever’s near while talking, if you get my meaning."

There was a short silence as each envisioned the scene in their own minds, before Hiyori cracked it with her characteristic brusqueness.

"So what? It's an eyesore but it's not anythin' _weird_ , Captain Hikifune does my hair all the time!"

"Well, here’s the thing... Hiyori, would _you_ brush Shinji's hair?"

Love got a batch of umeboshi thrown at his face for his troubles.

"Ya take that back! I'd CUT it off, if anythin'! Shave that stupid head of his clean!"

"My fool of a captain TRIES to get at my hair. I've absolutely forbidden him seein' how he keeps HIS hair in that ridiculous condition."

"Would you let anybody else near your hair, Love? Rose?"

"The state of a man's hair is his pride, it's a sacred thing."

Rose reverently raised his cup in salute to Aikawa's solemn proclamation, even as Kensei and Hiyori rolled their eyes.

"Didn't he wear it in a ponytail, once?"

The question rang out unexpectedly. Now everyone looked at Mashiro, who didn’t even look up from her noodles as she talked in that slow, flowing manner.

"When I was a wee shinigami, I only saw that hair and thought he was a rather cool sis. Reeee-ally disappointed he wasn't."

"Hey, I remember - I liked it that way, aesthetically neater. Pity he always keeps it loose now -"

"Aesthetic my ass, made him look too damn frail, was what it did. Anyway, he only wore it like that because _he_  wanted it -"

Kensei stumbled over his own words, nearly swallowing his own tongue in the process. But Lisa had picked up the strand of the story he'd bitten off. 

"Oh yeah, one of Tenjou’s quirks. I once saw him nearly jump on Shinji when he forgot to tie his hair, trying to ineffectually wrap him in that overly-fancy ribbon. Always that same ribbon too -"

A layer of chill descended over the table at the mention of the name, although some like Rose and Mashiro remained only puzzled. Aikawa cleared his throat.

"Listen, no-one talks about _him_ \- "

"So _I_ 'm talking about him, since no one _else_ talks about him."

"You know, that sounded deceptively logical –“ 

"It's not like anyone can talk a whole lotta 'bout Captain Tenjou ("FORMER captain -" interjected Aikawa -) anyway, who knows anythin' at this point? Except Shinji himself -"

Hachi alone noticed Hiyori grip her cup a little tighter. Opposite them, Aikawa continued his futile effort.

"Lisa, you really shouldn't be dropping that name so carelessly -"

"My, is this a sudden gust of propriety threatening to defile a perfectly fine atmosphere of gossip?"

"Rojuro - "

"See, this is why you can't trust the captains, one minute they're drinking with you acting all chummy - the next, they spring protocols on you. You won't see me cheating my staff like that when I'm captain."

Ignoring Aikawa, Rojuro turned to Lisa with gleaming eyes fraught with curiosity.

"Tenjou… Tenjou… ah, Tenjou Soichiro, wasn’t it? The former captain of the Fifth Division? Didn't get a chance to know him all that well, really."

"No one did, the Fifth Division at that time was - different,"

"A glorified personal squad for a damn blue blood, that's what it was,"

"Kensei-"

The addressed captain folded his arms with a huff at the admonition.

Rose put his head a little to one side. "Come to think of it, how did Shinji ever end up there? Shinji is as far from any nobility as anyone could be - "

"Plucked from his previous division by the said noble's whims,”

"Now Kensei - "

"And practically keeping Shinji in his pockets all the time,"

"Yeah? I rather thought Shinji had HIM eating off his hand."

Aikawa sighed. "Lisa, Kensei - I realize sensitivity is rather a difficult concept for you -"

"I AM sensitive. I pick up on all these things because I am. The word you're lookin' for is 'indiscreet'."

"Don't sound so proud of it -"

Rose tilted his head to the other side.

"Well, now that I think about it, Shinji and Aizen reminded me of that pair. Like I said, I didn't know them all that well at that time but I do know that they were always together."

"More like he latched onto Shinji like a snake wrapping around his throat -"

"I think like a cicada to a tree is a more fitting description. Anyway, Shinji's like an ill-tempered alley cat, ain't no one latchin' onto him unless he lets them,"

Rose make a tutting sound. "I take it you didn't like Tenjou all that much? I remember the former captain being pretty popular though, not particularly close to anyone outside his division but an amiable personality-"

"A creep, I always thought."

"That's what people say in hindsight, Kensei. I liked him."

"See Lisa, that really should have been our first clue -"

"Now Hiyori, you never liked him to begin with, right?"

"No," Hiyori uttered, still staring down at her cup, "Naw, I never did,"

Her quiet, stiff reply got to all of them in a way Aikawa's chiding had failed to do so. There passed a moment where all eyes surreptitiously passed over the bowed straw-colored head.

Rose delicately cleared his throat.

"So... it was never made clear, right? What happened and all? Caused quite a stir back then, like nearly the whole division was spirited away or something – Tenjou – considered dead, right?"

"Like I said, nobody talks about it - "

"Wasn't Kido Corps running around really busy, then?"

At Lisa's retort, everyone's head swiveled towards the nearly forgotten member at the table. Hachi blinked, seemingly distraught at being suddenly discovered so. He made a vague gesture that mounted to everything between ‘I confess ignorance' to 'I've sworn secrecy'. Which left Lisa leaning back, expelling a loud 'HA!'.

"These Special Corps and captains, so stingy about satin' curiosities, I tell ya,"

"I remember Mei. I liked her, used to play with me. I was sorry when she was gone."

A quip from Mashiro caught everyone off-guard again. She continued dreamily as she stuffed green peas inside her cheeks.

"Hope they don't end up like that, though,"

"They?"

"Shinji and used-to-be captain Soichiro. They're not together anymore with the other gone all mysteriously. And nobody talking about it. _Shinji_ not talking about it. And Rose saying how they were like Shinji and Aizen now. So really, it's best those two don't end up like that, with one gone again."

Quite unaware or uncaring of the silence her words had brought, she blithely held out an empty bowl, cheerfully declaring it be filled with more peas. Hachigen gallantly answered the call, taking the bowl and shuffling out of the table like a slow-rocking roly poly.

As he was coming back with his prize – green pea pods tittering over the edges of the bowl - his gaze absently wandered over to other tables - and froze.

Sitting at the far corner were two shinigami who had been the subject of their conversation.

They were far enough and the restaurant loud enough that Hachigen couldn't hear what they were discussing – although it was apparent, by the sweeping gestures the captain of the Third Division was making, and the way the two hardly broke eye contact even as they went at their meal, that they were deeply engrossed in their topic. Hachi was considering warning the others to be more discriminating about their talk when he saw Lieutenant Aizen, without pausing their conversation, deftly rescue a lock of long yellow hair from slipping into the drink, casually tucking it behind his captain's ear. Thinking back to Otoribashi's observation, Hachi couldn't help but be a little amused.

The next scene that played out ignited a spark of curiosity in the Kido Corps lieutenant.

Sighing and making exasperated noises, Hirako Shinji reached towards his subordinate's soup bowl - this was obviously a regular occurrence seeing how easily the lieutenant relinquished it - and took a sip before returning it. This didn't surprise Hachi. Hirako Shinji would do it with the same nonchalance even if Captain Commander himself had been the one holding the bowl.

What _was_ unexpected was Aizen taking the bowl back and immediately drink from it. This was a man Hachi had seen meticulously dole out soup in separate bowls in the last Lieutenants' Dinner Meeting.

Meanwhile, the captain had moved onto dessert - or he was unscrupulous about the order of dishes eaten – a namagashi shaped like a glistening persimmon. He took a bite of the moist mass and then seemed to almost forget it, caught up in their talk. He put his elbow on the table, leaving the half-eaten dessert dangerously swaying between his fingers.

Hachi saw Aizen shake his head either in assent or disagreement to his captain's assertion - as well as his hand, moving towards the other’s that held the confection.  

The lieutenant's fingers didn't so much grasp the hand as they pressed lightly into the bent wrist, lowering it. The brunette's head lowered in tandem.

Hachi would've passed it as an unconscious act, except it was a little too slow to be not deliberate. Too savoring as the mouth opened, and one could easily imagine tongue swiping the marks left by the other's teeth on that sticky surface. The bite, when it actually happened, was deep enough that lips must have brushed the sweetened fingertips underneath.

Suddenly, Hachi felt like a voyeur - as if he were peeping through someone else's room, catching sliced views of rustling fabrics, with hints of flesh between them-

Hachi hurriedly moved back, flush of inexplicable shame rising. Fortunately, no-one at the table recognized his changed state upon returning, only offhandedly thanking him and Mashiro happily divesting him of his prize.

Kensei spoke with finality: "Well, hair brushing or not, I'm not convinced. The boy's just fastidious, probably can't stand his captain being messy,"

"What do YOU think about Rose's claim, Hachi?"

Hacchi blinked a second time that evening. What he'd just witnessed came back in heat-infused images and Hachi tried to cover it up by rubbing his face.

"I think... I believe that any relationship between any two people... cannot truly be surmised by others."

This was received as an answer worthy of a most tedious textbook from Shino Academy's ethics class. Eventually, the assembly decided that while there was too much conflict of opinions to declare the Fifth Division's captain-lieutenant pair as the best, they could probably win the title of the most _unlikely._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my mind, Aizen does NOT share food with anyone else. 
> 
> It’s my little head-canon that double-dipping while dining with him would be a surefire way to get one blacklisted in his book.


	6. Danger, Sweetness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a side to his lieutenant that only Shinji can see.  
> But let's think about that later, there's Hiyori's birthday party to worry about.  
> Except Shinji has to worry about both, at the same time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, a *bunch* of notes this time:
> 
> 'Danger' and 'Sweetness' are two of the Fifth Division's flower signifiers. 
> 
> The stories mentioned in the opening are taken from existing myths or folktales – mainly Fairy Melusine and "The Brahmin Girl who Married a Tiger". But there are so many shapeshifter/animal bride/groom tales that they could be any of those.
> 
> As I understand, Sherlock Holmes was first introduced to Japan in 1890s via a magazine. Then during the year 1899, the stories from "The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes" were translated and published on newspapers. The first Japanese book version was on 1907. Considering "Turn Back the Pendulum" Arc was 110 years ago… I've decided it ROUGHLY matches the time when the stories were beginning to be published via newspaper. 
> 
> Snap-Dragon(NOT the plant nor SoC), also called Flap-Dragon, is an existing game, popular during Victorian times and played up until the late 1900's or so (although probably not in the scale portrayed here). I've seen videos of people playing this so apparently it hasn't died out completely. But I beg everyone to NOT do it at home or anywhere else, really. Playing with fire is no trifle matter, both literally and figuratively.

Throughout his frequent excursions to the human world, Shinji had made a few acquaintances of its native residents.

Some of them harbored vague suspicions regarding his nature – a being not of their world. The wiser of them kept such suspicions to themselves. Those were the ones who retained long-lasting - at least from human point of view - relationship with their strange visitor.

One of such lasting acquaintances had been an old Westerner. Both the locals and other foreign settlers regarded him with equal amounts of fear and fascination. And Shinji wasn't completely exempt from the latter emotion. It was quite a feat for a being that had existed for less than a quarter of his years.

Some said the old man was a terrible criminal exiled from his homeland (which he never specified). Some romantics thought him a sorcerer. He denied none of such charges. In his own words, the old man professed to be a retired illusionist, a dabbling artist, an aspiring writer, as well as an amateur folklorist. It was from his last interest that Shinji gained a love of stories concocted by humans. One subject that his blue-eyed friend was particularly fond of was that of shapeshifters: glittering serpent brides that forbid their husbands to look when they were bathing, crafty tiger grooms that lured girls and fooled their families with their human skin. (It was at such times Shinji wondered how much the old man truly supposed, the feel of his gigai becoming more acute, like a pair of new sandals that needed breaking in.)

He’d shared some of the stories with Sousuke – whose opinion on them was very much like the one he had regarding Shinji's choice in music - that he couldn't really understand them. They sounded too whimsical for adults, yet too gory for children. But later on, with fingers threading through his hair, ghosting along his nape, Sousuke would ask Shinji to recite those stories again. _(Shinji never told Aizen how his former captain had asked the same of him.)_

And even as the familiar words tumbled over his tongue, a part of Shinji would think wryly: What if one had seen the truth lying underneath to begin with? Saw the opal scales, the tawny hide beneath the layer of perfect human disguise. Sighted the glint of flesh-hungry ivory fangs and slit pupils that were like blades. Smelled the blood upon its lips, felt the cold flow of its veins? What if those were what drew you in first - before you ever knew the smooth skin, the supple limbs, the sweetness of its speech that covered its true nature?

He never really had a chance.

 

* * *

 

 

Sometimes, Shinji wondered how others couldn't see it.

Sometimes, he wondered whether it really was all in his head, a paranoia manifesting from his past experience. Imagining pitfalls where there was only solid ground, wary of shadows that were only his own reflections.

Yet whenever such doubts surfaced, _it_ would show up clearly - a sharp edge cutting through softness. And Shinji wondered, all the more, how others failed to sense any of it.

It was still later that Shinji realized his lieutenant only allowed _him_ to witness that side of him. Shinji refused to admit it at first because it seemed a tad arrogant to assume so. Yet as the time they spent together increased, he was forced to accept the notion.

Shinji had privately taken to calling such moments 'unbalancing'. Because Aizen Sousuke was perfectly balanced to whatever the others wanted - expected - of him. _("Not too hot, not too cold. It's just right." said the Goldilocks – per story told by his human friend.)_ Only when they were alone would he 'tip over' - in the manner of one relaxing in the privacy of their own room. And the facade would fold up and loosen - like edges of clothing riding up the carelessly sprawled limbs, revealing bare skin underneath. Inviting. Beckoning for him to see more.

Just as he was doing right now.

"I give him a week, and I believe I'm being generous."

Before, Shinji would've been startled to hear such cold observation from his lieutenant. Even now, he couldn't help a slightest chill prickling down his spine. Whether from wariness or a sense of thrill, Shinji couldn't distinguish.

"So I just _hallucinated_ ya givin' the poor kid a pat on the back, doling out all those terribly kind encouragements like candies and sending him away, all hopeful, back to the Twelfth Division?"

"What would be the use of doing otherwise? He wasn't," Sousuke said, reaching for one of the cushions that his captain was hogging, "looking for advice, just a vindication."

Shinji raised an eyebrow as Sousuke sat himself down in front of him, tucking a fringe behind his ear.

"'bout?"

"That he is validated to disapprove of his lieutenant."

Shinji thought back to what he’d witnessed just moments ago: He had been coming into the barracks and had accidentally come upon Sousuke and a young shinigami having a conversation. The latter had his back to Shinji and hadn't noticed at all, unlike Sousuke, who had given him a quicksilver smile and briefly touched a finger to his lips.

Shinji leaned back, cocking his head.

"So, the boy just wasted his valuable time to vent 'bout Hiyori. Why to _ya_ , though?"

"I was briefly his senior at the Academy. I think he believes that he's ingratiated himself with me. Now he's trying to do the same with Lieutenant Sarugaki, and fails to understand why she cannot be bothered."

"Poor kid."

It was an unofficial ritual for the new recruits of the Twelfth Division - that one must endure the vitriolic temper and the explosive kicks of its lieutenant. As was the nature of the game of survival, not all managed. Shinji was predisposed to take the new recruit's side on general principle (if only to frustrate his longtime friend) except... Shinji couldn't find it in himself to pity the young man. He had caught the last threads of the conversation and something the boy had said - with a hint of patronizing tone - had rubbed him the wrong way.

"...I'm sure Lieutenant Sarugaki has her sweet side, it's just that..."

As if Hiyori _needed_ to be sweet.

His own lieutenant's lucid voice broke into his reflections. "With his disposition, he'd be much better served as a secretary to a noble or a position at the administrations. I told him perhaps he should consider that. But I don't believe he has the head for truth. Not now,"

'And likely not ever.' Shinji could sense the unspoken words hovering right behind the tongue, swallowed in concession to the pretense of kindness, only to alight in the eyes behind he glasses. That cold amusement casting a sheen over the soft brown irises. _(Except - it wasn't so, was it? It was a layer stripped off.)_  

Shinji went back to fiddling with the book on his lap, tutting. "I suppose ye’re right as always. Ya can't get used to meeting her sandals with ye’re face, ya don't have what it takes to be in that division. Still, 'tis a wonder how Captain Hikifune - Hell, bloody everyone in the division - lets Hiyori get away with it, practically caterin' to her."

"Pardon me, but the same can be said about you, captain."

"No it doesn't!"

"Yes it does, Lieutenant Sarugaki has that effect," Sousuke smiled. "She’s young, she'll always be young. That entitles her to certain things that others of her position are deprived of."

"...Ya sound as if _ye_ 're disapprovin'."

His lieutenant looked genuinely surprised at that.

"I envy her, if anything," Before Shinji could process that statement, Sousuke went on. "If she were any weaker, she'd be handed the short end of the stick in life. As it is, she has enough strength and authority to back up her temperament. And those who can afford to be patient recognize that while she may not be 'sweet' - there's no real sting in her violence,"

"Ya can say that 'cuz ya've never personally suffered it, it stings enough,"

"Essentially," Sousuke went on as if the interruption didn't happen, "she's as harmless as a child. Such harmlessness attracts people. There'll always be people to care for her, because a child needs to be cared for. It happens without any conscious effort on her part. So Lieutenant Sarugaki is in an enviable position."

Shinji peered at his lieutenant, looking for any hint of irony or sarcasm as he absently rolled his thumbs over the pages of the book.

"By the way, is that a new find?"

Before Shinji could react to the sudden change in topic, Sousuke reached out towards the book. Since he could find no excuse to refuse, he let Sousuke take it. A feint light came into those eyes, a rare sight of unbidden interest.

""The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes." I didn't know a fully translated version was published."

"Don't bend the spine," Shinji waved at him by way of warning, "'tis for Hiyori."

"Oh."

Sousuke blinked once, and looked over at the empty desk, and once around the room, causing Shinji to smirk.

"I got only one copy. So be careful, 'tis very special and very unique."

Sousuke didn't look disappointed, because Aizen Sousuke didn't do disappointments. He looked _reproachful._

 _Who's to talk 'bout being entitled._ Shinji thought.

It was one of those happenings that proved the universe had a strange sense of humor - that of all people, Hiyori and Sousuke would share an equal enthusiasm for the fictional detective from the Human World. They devoured, repeatedly, all the stories that Shinji brought in forms of journals or newspapers. (Sousuke had even asked if original texts couldn't be obtained. Shinji almost questioned how he'd handle English but something made him suspect that his lieutenant would have no issues.)

"Of course," Sousuke said in an even tone, even though his eyes still held Shinji's in silent accusation. "I understand today is Lieutenant Sarugaki’s birthday. It is... very thoughtful of you captain..."

Sousuke trailed off, examining Shinji's smile more closely. Then he carefully opened to a random page in the book. After a quick skim, Sousuke glanced up at his captain, whose smile had morphed into a wolfish grin. Sousuke held the book out and read a passage out loud:

"...and she held the rose to her fluttering heart, wishing it were her love's hand brushing over her instead of velvet petals. If she made an effort, she could still imagine his warmth left upon the flower that he'd presented to her. This was not what she'd imagined love to be: no less sweet than she'd expected but accompanied with such exquisite pain..."

Shinji had broken into a full-blown laugh, slapping his knee in glee. Sousuke slowly lowered the text, expression neutral.

"Unless the eminent Sir Conan Doyle has gone a drastic change in genre, I suspect this is a case of 'Don't Judge a Book by Its Cover?'"

Shinji slouched forward, chin on his hands, mischievous glint apparent in his eyes.

"'Twas a good test run. If that fooled ya..."

"I'm sure Lieutenant Sarugaki will appreciate the effort gone into this prank. Even the cover calligraphy looks legitimate, an impressive feat considering your usual writing, captain."

"I find it easier if I treat it as a drawin',"

Sousuke flipped through the rest of the book, wrinkling his brows. "What _is_ this, anyway?"

Shinji waved his hand airily.

"'tis somethin' Lisa's into. Well, one of the tamer texts. Apparently somethin' of a rage."

"It's also nice and thick. Very thoughtful of the author since it might do actual damage when Lieutenant Sarugaki throws it at you."

"Oh, won't be there. I'll just be droppin' off this beauty at the Twelfth Division right now."

"But aren't you - everyone - meeting her tonight?"

"Hiyori's planned a private party with Captain Hikifune today. So any get-together among us is postponed."

"Then," Sousuke came forward, intruding into Shinji’s space like a snake snatching up a chance prey. Shinji almost leaned back instinctively, only irrational pride prevented him at the last moment.

"You are available tonight?"

"...I suppose? Why?"

"Some dissent among division members. I was just going to deal with it but if you have time, I'd appreciate your opinion. I thought we could talk it over dinner, it may be too sensitive a topic to discuss within the division barracks."

"...This to do with old man Third Seat?"

"The usual suspect, captain."

Shinji felt a tinge of aversion that reared its head whenever Sousuke 'roped him in' like this - as if any of Shinji's spare hours were his to take. But as was the taking of the book previously, Shinji could find no real excuse to refuse.

"Fine, but stop spouting that detective speak, 'kay? And no promises, I might stop by other places so if I'm not back until late, just go on ahead by yerself."

"I suppose Lieutenant Sarugaki might catch you in the act after all and you wouldn't want to present yourself in public with a black eye."

Shinji snorted as he took back the deceiving text from his lieutenant.

 

* * *

 

 

"Hey Shinji - Shinji!"

Shinji turned and a shock of familiar green hair filled his vision. The owner of the outrageous color who appeared out of nowhere took hold of his sleeves.

"You're late! Everyone's already here!"

Mashiro never tamped down her strength - be it fighting Hollows or greeting her bewildered friends. Shinji barely saved himself from falling on his face and being dragged to the unknown destination like a sack.

"Wait, wha -? Mashiro? What's this 'bout?"

Shinji looked around and wasn't disappointed. For Kensei stood behind his incorrigible lieutenant as usual. However, the direction of his disapproval was not - not towards his lieutenant, but towards Shinji.

"You are late. Better hurry up, or Mashiro will pull your arm out."

"Huh? What's going on? Hurry up where?!?"

Shinji looked up to see a pub they were prone to frequenting, and familiar heads sprouted from the entrance.

"Hey, we've already started on the food and the drinks, Hiyori's been waiting -"

"I was NOT!"

Shinji blinked, and asked for a third time. "What's this? Why ya here, Hiyori? What 'about Captain Hikifune?"

This time, they all blinked owlishly at him, at each other, and then back at him. Eventually, Love spoke.

"You didn't get the message? But since you were here, we thought… "

"What? I was just getting back to the division..."

This time, Rose piped up. "We sent a Hell Butterfly for you. I guess you missed it. Captain Hikifune had something urgent come up. So we've decided to just throw Hiyori a party tonight since she'd be all lonesome -"

"I was NOT! Ye all just got bored and dragged me here - "

"We've rented the pub. So we got the whole place to ourselves. Lucky you happened to pass by, come in."

"Or just go on yer way, I could do with less idiots,"

The two exchanged obligatory taunts before Shinji declared it wasn't in the nature of Hirako Shinji to miss a party, especially a spur-of-the-moment-deal. He hesitated a minuscule amount before stepping into the pub, remembering his lieutenant. Well, he _did_ say no promises, right? He’d _said_ not to wait for him. It wasn't as if he was _obligated_.

Shinji went in, snatching up a skewer that Hiyori was about to devour from as he did, starting a chase all around the pub.

 

* * *

 

The party was briefly paused when the pub owner intervened in the middle of Lisa's recital of her latest epic literature - with _illustrations_ \- , sternly reminding them that some of his staff were young 'uns and the subject matter wasn't very suitable. (His expression pretty much said that as far as his opinions went, Lisa's reading material wasn't suitable for _anyone_.)

Their indomitable friend was not to be done yet, however.

"Say, there was somethin' I always wanted to try. Shinji, what was that thin', that game humans play, ya did it a long time ago, somethin' 'bout a dragon..."

"I'm sorry, the place is rented for tonight."

The end of Lisa's speech and the pub owner's voice coincided and everyone automatically turned towards the entrance without paying real attention. The latter part was to be quickly remedied, however.

"Yes, I thought so."

Shinji stiffened at the familiar voice. The figure at door was mostly shrouded in the darkness outside, with only a sliver of light thrown upon it. A crack in the smooth black shadow.

The figure crossed the threshold.

By now recognition had dawned on everyone's faces. Not quite knowing what to do with this sudden revelation, they stayed momentarily frozen. Shinji moved first, quickly situating himself between his friends and his lieutenant.

"Sousuke? What are ya doing here?!?"

"Well, captain. You didn't come back and I was slightly concerned."

"I said I might be late, then ya were to go on by yerself!"

"My apologies, captain, I must have presumed,"

The smile that peeked over the slight bow, however, seemed anything but apologetic. And only Shinji could see it. Shinji felt a corner of his mouth twitch as he clenched his teeth. For some reason, Shinji found his gaze flitting towards Kyoka Suigetsu. (Well, why _shouldn't_ he be with his zanpakuto? Plenty of shinigami wore their zanpakuto even after their work hours.)

"How did ya even -"

"You did mention Lieutenant Sarugaki’s birthday get-together. So I thought to check. I believe you said it was postponed but I perhaps I didn’t hear right."

"No, change of... never mind that, how did ya know where -"

"Only a handful of usual suspects," Sousuke whispered in Shinji's ear, "quite elementary,"

Before Shinji could kick the detective-novel speak out of his lieutenant, the latter smoothly passed by, his usual guileless smile in place. He crouched over Hiyori, ceremoniously holding out a silken package.

"By the way, happy birthday, Lieutenant Sarugaki."

Hiyori, looking up at the other with a frown, took the present out of sheer reflex.

"The least I could do for barging in so suddenly to your party,"

'Maybe ya could've done better by NOT bargin' in all sudden-?’ Sousuke continued to smile as if he hadn't heard his captain mutter behind his back.

"It's nothing big, I'm afraid. I picked it up in a hurry."

"Oh," Hiyori's response was more subdued than anyone in the room was accustomed to. Then: "Ya shouldn't have."

Rose and Love cringed as it was apparent that Hiyori _meant_ it. But Sousuke didn't betray any sign of registering the comment as such. Hiyori's next words were more in line with her characteristic roughness.

"Ya here to drag away the lazy-ass?"

"Who ya calling lazy-ass, pipsqueak-"

"Oh no, Lieutenant Sarugaki, I wouldn't dream of it." Cutting off his captain's retort, Aizen Sousuke stood up and beamed at the crowd. "The official matters can wait, it is a special occasion after all. It takes priority."

There was an awkward pause as the uninvited lieutenant, with that calm smile carved in, made no move to leave. Shinji was about to take his sleeve when Mashiro sprang up.

"Welcome, Sousuke! Come in, we were about to do the dragon-thing-game! The more the merrier!"

Sousuke cocked his head towards his captain and then at Hiyori. The latter huffed and shrugged.

"Sure, why not. Join in. Mind ya, it's Shinji's game and Lisa likes it. That should give ya ideas. Ya wanna back out, do it now."

"I consider myself duly warned. Thank you for accepting my presence, Lieutenant Sarugaki."

Before Shinji could say anything, Sousuke had already insinuated himself among the throng, taking the offered drinks and treats, while putting considerable expanse of Love's and Kensei's backs between himself and Shinji. Shinji let out a low growl as he pushed himself in between his friends.

"Aren't ya forgettin' somethin', Sousuke?"

His lieutenant turned, eyes widening a little, making that face unaccountably innocent-looking. Shinji held out a hand.

"Like basic party-wear etiquette, "

There was another awkward moment. Only the two seemed ignorant of it as they gazed at each other. Eventually, the younger man put his drink down.

"Of course, captain. It just slipped from my mind, coming straight from work and all."

So saying, Sousuke undid his zanpakuto from his sash and placed it upon his captain's open palm. But the hand closed over the scabbard remained.

"My apologies for being so impolite."

"Impolite? Plain barbaric, Sousuke,"

Clicking his tongue, Shinji gripped the other's zanpakuto. Only when his captain's fingers folded over his own did Sousuke release his own grip, slowly slipping past the leaner fingers. Unceremoniously slinging Kyoka Suigetsu over his shoulder, Shinji walked over to the back of the pub, waving away Mashiro's cry to his back: 'Don't bully Sou-chan!'.

When Shinji came back, he was dragging a large metal tray that was more like a basin. Rose looked at it with deep suspicion.

"You didn't trade Sousuke's zanpakuto with that, did you?"

"Haha, clear tables and put them together, wouldya?"

When this request was met, the tray landed on the group of tables placed in the middle of the pub. Per Shinji's directions, both the pub staff and the shinigami poured drinks in it so that a shallow pool of alcohol was prepared. Then Shinji and Lisa proceeded to scatter various candied fruits on the pool - raisins, currants, sugared plums and others. As a final touch, all the light in the pub was extinguished except the ones at the kitchen and a couple of candlelight.

"Ya need brandy, really, but as long as it's strong enough to catch fire..."

"Wait, what?"

In response to Love's question, Shinji took a candle from one of the tables and lowered the flame over the liquid. With sort of ‘puff’ in the air, the whole basin became alight with blue flame, making some stumble back.

Shinji looked over the company around the luminescent pool, his grin fearsome as blue light danced over his features.

"'Tis called Snapdragon, Lisa, or flapdragon."

Shinji plunged his hand into the flame.

As the pub staff and Kensei gasped, Shinji plucked a raisin from the azure fire and popped the little flaming fruit into his mouth. Others could see wisps of fire like quick blue tongues between the shinigami's lips as he chanted 'Snip, snap, dragon,' before the mouth fully closed.

Some of the younger staff clapped as Mashiro laughed delightedly. Love looked dubiously at Shinji munching on the raisin, then at the pool of flame.

"...I thought humans were flammable."

"The fire goes out fairly quick once ya close yer mouth,"

"The owner okay with this?"

"He's fine even if we burn the place down, as long as Gotei 13 reimburses him. By the way, I signed the letter of guarantee on behalf of all of ya, so it's an equal divide among the divisions."

"Someone's hair’s gonna go up in flames before the place catches fire!"

"Hey, let's make a bet on that, candidates being Love, Rose..."

"Dibs on Shinji getting it!"

Soon, others joined in on the dare - shouts pain from lightly burnt lips and fingertips mingling with laughter and mangled - or made-up - versions of the chant.

"Heh, it's easy actually, ya get the hang of it."

"Yeah? Ya be cheatin' Hiyori, only keepin' to the sides. Oh wait, yer reach's a bit challenged fer anythin' further, right?"

Shinji nearly earned Rose's bet as Hiyori chucked a burning plum at his head.

"Actually, Lieutenant Sarugaki has a point. How about a variation,"

An unexpected voice from the unexpected source made everyone's head swivel. Unflinching from the stares, Sousuke spoke over the flames. "Let's put the sweets in _another's_ mouth - the latter won't know they'll be getting it until the person feeds them."

There was a brief pause then Lisa thumped Sousuke on the back - hard enough for him to almost fall upon the basin and making everyone wince.

"I _knew_ there was _somethin'_ lurking behind those squeaky-clean glasses of yers!"

"So, like this?"

Mashiro punched a plum out of the pool - the burning fruit striking her captain solidly on the mouth.

"And Kensei's down!"

Kensei quickly picked himself up in the middle of cheering, throwing the currant back in retaliation but by then the flame had gone out. This signaled the second stage and soon, everyone was tight around the pool of flame - keenly watching one another to see where the flaming shot would come from and towards whom.

They had changed positions many times during the game - and Hiyori, now standing beside Sousuke, moved to an opportune raisin but was matched by Sousuke obviously aiming for the same target, and as the latter had a better reach -

But Shinji was faster in snatching it up first. He flicked it up in a mock cry of pain, juggling the flame a few times before stuffing it into Hiyori's mouth - which had been wide open in a shout of annoyance at the missed target.

"Happy birthday burns,"

The mean chuckle was rewarded with double shots of flame as Hiyori, still sputtering as the raisin cooled in her mouth, splashed the flaming alcohol at him.

"Hey hey! That ain't in the rules!"

"Says who? Stupid Shinji!"

"Ya want 'other shot?"

Shinji picked up a larger currant but the attack came from an unsuspected direction. Sousuke had shot over, leaning so quickly and dangerously - even making Hiyori flinch seeing the flames brushing over his chin and chest - mouth closing over the fruit and Shinji's fingers. He arched back using momentum, the expulsion of breath burning blue momentarily. Shinji clicked his tongue again.

"Nice dragon ya make, Sousuke, but wasn't that cheatin'?"

"Preemptive strike only, captain."

"Well, ya gave ideas to someone, fer sure,"

Shinji glanced towards Mashiro as she, eyes gleaming like a cat's, jumped over the flame, mouth clamping over the first burning fruit she saw which happened to be held by hapless Love. Lisa and Rose added to the fray by attempting to sneak-feed each other, only Hiyori happened to slide in between them, aiming for the largest burning plum - which flew from her hand as both sides crashed into her, scattering flame bits as it landed back into the pool with a splash.

"We might end up using up the division budget after all," Sousuke spoke, dodging a flame that whipped past his ear. Shinji missed a snappy comeback as flame splashed on his sandals. He backed away shaking the fire off his foot.

The brief respite gave him a chance to examine his fingers. Red crescent-shaped indentations dotted the end joints. Shinji stayed apart from the game - which had turned into a veritable pandemonium - a little while more, until the throbbing from the marks subsided.

 

* * *

 

In the end, it was Love's hair that ended the game and the bet.

A currant that Hiyori had dove for ended up seeking refuge inside Love's hair. The unflappable pub owner had stolidly marched towards the panicked captain, dumping ice water solemnly on the inflamed head.

Cleaning up took considerable time and the party lulled into a rest - each taking up seats in small groups, sipping their choice drinks and snacks. Shinji ended up sitting alone on the side bench when Kensei got up as his lieutenant called from the other side. He wasn't alone for long, however, for Sousuke soon sat himself down on the opposite side, holding out a cup of warmed sake. Shinji curled a corner of his mouth but he took it. They drank in silence for a moment, looking at each other over the rims of their cups.

Hiyori, sitting atop a table on the far corner, called out something towards Shinji - either an insult or beckoning - likely both - causing the captain to rise, equally answering in an unflattering description for his friend, walking forward -

A wall of violet kido flame blocked his path.

Shinji swore and stepped back. His confusion was quick to switch to irritation, fixing his lieutenant with a glare. Which the latter returned with an ever-peaceful countenance.

Aizen Sousuke pulled his chin in a little and the fire died down like a candle flame puffed out. Shinji glanced over the pub but no-one seemed to have noticed.

Shinji favored his lieutenant with another narrow-eyed glance.

"It's past midnight." Sousuke said by way of explanation, turning his captain's look of accusation to one of incredulity.

After a few seconds, Shinji sighed and turned back, throwing himself down on the seat. He waved towards Hiyori as she looked over. She merely stuck out her tongue before resettling into her respective company.

"Thank you," Shinji looked up at the unexpected words from his lieutenant. "for keeping Kyoka Suigetsu for me."

Shinji let out a derisive sniff. He felt the weight of the other's zanpakuto hidden under his haori, the unfamiliarity of it scraping against his side.

"Ya'd been the life of the party, with yer zanpakuto puttin' staff on edge and embarrassin' the whole lot of us. What were ya thinkin'? The owner or Kensei'd have just dumped poor Kyoka Suigetsu in the back storage fer the whole night."

"You were there to rescue her." Sousuke smiled. "I think you're kinder to my zanpakuto than you are to me."

"Well, she ain't the one gettin' all sulky on me fer... I don't even know fer what." Shinji slapped his knee in frustration. "I said no promises."

Sousuke leaned back, hands lightly fisting on his knees, and shrugged in the way that Shinji interpreted as 'Nevertheless'. Shinji gave an exasperated sigh and rubbed his eyes.

"The only thing worse than ya actin' like a ten-year old is no-one else seein' that ya _can_ be such a ten-year old."

"Still, there was no call to be so nervous, captain,"

Shinji parted his fingers, looking at the younger man in between them. There was that sheen over those eyes again. Something Shinji felt rather than saw. The same sensation he’d felt when the young man had suggested an alternative method to the game, the flickering behind those glasses that had nothing to do with the flames between them. _Surely not here,_ Shinji had thought. _Ya wouldn’t, not with others ‘round... not like this._

His lieutenant had looked at him then, and it was clear that he knew what Shinji was thinking.

Then those eyes of cold fire had minutely rested on Hiyori, than at the flames before them.

The chill that flowed down his spine had driven Shinji to snatch up the burning fruit before his lieutenant could.

"What did you _think_ I'd do? Burn Lieutenant Sarugaki?"

And now, his lieutenant was talking, head to one side, a youngish gesture incongruous to him.

"That I'd take it out on her?"

And Shinji thought of half-shed skins, hanging off from tiger hide, serpent scales. Fangs as sharp and cruel as those eyes.

The edge of his fingers tingled with the memory of the bite.

His lieutenant picked a raisin out of the bowl before them. The chant whispered was more like a sigh, and a violet flame engulfed the tiny morsel. Sousuke held it up close to Shinji's mouth.

"Do you think I'd burn _you_ , captain?"

Shinji let the unnatural flame lick at his lips before curling them into something between a sneer and a snarl.

"I don't," He opened his mouth slowly, " _think._ "

The fingers holding the raisin slipped in. Teeth grazed over the fruit and the skin as the flame caressed the moist flesh, the pain just short of being unbearable. Fingertips pressed into the tongue, as if planting the burning raisin deep inside. The fire died as the fingers withdrew.

Shinji refrained from breathing in loudly as Sousuke sat back, forced himself to not shudder as the younger man licked his wet digits.

When Shinji finally bit down on the fruit, only sweetness flowed down his tongue, with the slight warmth the only remnant of the burn.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, so the game I've described here is probably no longer a Snapdragon. 
> 
> Aizen isn't a yandere, only a little scary.


	7. Points of View: Sarugaki Hiyori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiyori sees Aizen with an unexpected acquaintance - inquiring into the Fifth Division's past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hardly know any Japanese. So I’m probably messing up the OC names but I tried to put some meaning into their Kanji: 
> 
> "The Robber Bridegroom" is a tale by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm. One of the many variants of the "Bluebeard" type tales. The ‘quotes’ are taken from the actual story, although I’ve changed the wordings a bit. Warning: they are fairly disturbing.
> 
> Shinji’s former superior from the first and second chapter makes a reappearance, as well as many OC ‘villains’ from chapter four.

Shinji had always been enthusiastic about his contraband from the Human World. Only a few had actually managed to catch Hiyori's interest. (Of course, she did her best to not show it.)

The very first among them had been a leather-bound book of tales, the lavish illustrations having caught her eyes. In one of his rare moments of graciousness, he had lent it to her.

After  _reading_  those stories, Hiyori suspected that it'd been one of his pranks. Tales of blood, violence, and heinous acts of crime. _What brutes these humans are_ , Hiyori thought, _to weave such stories for their children._

But she could not deny a certain haunting charm those stories possessed, for they stuck with her through the years.

One of them was called "The Robber Bridegroom". A girl was betrothed, unbeknownst to her and her family, to the leader of a band of cannibalistic robbers. The night Hiyori had read about what those robbers did to their victims ( _“They ripped her clothes, put her on a table, chopped her fine body into pieces and sprinkled salt on it to devour.”_ ), she'd slept in the same room as Captain Hikifune.

She'd just read up to the part where the unveiling of the Robber Bridegroom was about to take place when she'd bumped into the original owner of the tome.

She couldn't recognize her friend, at first.

Shinji himself seemed torn between taking advantage of her confusion to flee or shout at her to stop gawking.

Then it was late for either because another presence draped itself over Shinji's shoulders, cheerfully waving at Hiyori over her friend's reddened ears.

"Good afternoon, Hiyori-san,"

 _He_ had always addressed everyone with the honorific _-san_ \- be they the youngest babe from the poorest district of Rukongai or the Eldest Head of one of the highest noble houses. Perhaps even the Captain Commander. _(Hiyori had once asked Shinji why_ she _was on a first name basis. “He says it sounds_ cuter, _” Shinji had replied, gagging at the last word. Hiyori had, par for the course, proceeded to kick her friend immediately.)_

The only exceptions were his twin sister and his two officers.

"Er... same to ya, Captain Tenjou."

Yet her eyes kept gravitating towards her friend as the captain held him tighter - practically hugging him from behind. Which didn't help with the blond’s embarrassment.

"Doesn't Shinji look nice? I don't know why he keeps running away... ow!"

The captain backed off as his lieutenant elbowed him in the ribs.

"Nice my ass! Ya put me in a damn clown attire! Give my shihakusho back or I'm gonna report ya fer the abuse of authority!"

Hiyori figured she really _was_ seeing what she was seeing. Her idiot friend really _was_ dressed in a bright orange yukata. His hair really _was_ tied back in a long ponytail, with a ribbon of deep red like a line of blood. ( _Hiyori had put the association down to that disturbing story she'd read.)_

It was the same kind of ribbon that was tied around the Fifth Division Captain's waist.

She was jolted awake from her reverie by a hand patting her head.

"Well? Hiyori-san, what do you think?"

 _Well, no-one but Captain Hikifune pats me like a six-year old_ , was what Hiyori had thought. But the expression on the captain's face, resembling that of a child expecting to be praised - threw her off.

Twitching a little, she addressed her friend instead.

"Ya look like a giant goldfish,"

Contrary to Shinji's expression - as if he were chewing a mouthful of lemon - Captain Tenjou looked delighted.

"Goldfish are pretty!"

"Ye're _completely_ missin' the point! Anyway, it can't be too late to get a refund for this thing-"

"No, no! It really suits you, Shinji! And it's my gift! Receivers have no say in what they receive..."

"Since when?!? Says who?!?"

Hiyori narrowed her eyes as she looked up towards the two bickering figures. She'd be the last one to consider herself possessing any sartorial expertise, but even she could tell the yukata was of finest quality and probably tailor-made.

Meanwhile, the captain of the Fifth Division threw his arms wide, his haori fluttering in the wake of the action like the wingspan of a bird. 

"Shinji, you wearing it would make me _happy_. You _want_ me to be happy, don't you?"

Shinji fixed his captain a cool stare.

"Yer happiness depends on me wearin' the clown outfit,"

Smiling, the captain adjusted the hem of the bright yukata, which had been pulled down by it unwilling wearer. Even after the job was finished the hands lingered on the jutting shoulders covered by the expensive fabric.  

"Sorry, Hiyori-san, we were on our way to lunch. Give my regards to Hikifune-san, would you?"

Shinji was too busy sputtering invective to his captain to offer farewells to his friend (or insults that counted as such). Hiyori found herself gently pushed aside as Captain Tenjou marched past her, smoothly maneuvering Shinji forward by the shoulers.

Hiyori watched their backs. As Shinji muttered another indistinct complaint, his long locks swaying furiously, the other spread out his arm again and yanked the blond closer, effectively muffling the protest. The vast hem of the captain’s haori seemed to almost swallow up her friend -inside the blinding white and the painted 'Five'.

_Turn back, turn back, you're inside a murderer's den._

Hiyori had no idea why that particular passage from that strange tale had popped in her head.

Not then.

 

* * *

 

It wasn't eavesdropping.

After all, she'd been here before they came in. It didn't make sense for her to leave. It wasn't like she'd _told_ them come into this particular tea-house, where she was enjoying a private snack, to sit at the table _right_ behind her, only a pillar away.

And if she'd maneuvered just _so_  that she was hidden behind the said pillar, it was to not interrupt their conversation. And if she peered over a little... well, just natural curiosity, right? After all, it'd been a while since she'd seen Shinji's former superior. (Just the kind of idiot superior that her idiot friend would have.) And she'd never imagined lieutenant four-eyes would have anything to talk with him. Yet here they were.

"You really should have come to my daughter's wedding, Lieutenant Aizen. I _did_ invite you."

"I apologize for missing the event, and offer my belated congratulations. But I couldn't possibly leave the division work..."

"Of course, of course. Captain Hirako has many - commendable traits but administrative work has never been one of them. I know from... experience."

Behind the pillar, Hiyori rolled her eyes.

"I must say, I am rather surprised that you'd personally ask for a meeting. An honor, no doubt, but I'm just wondering why."

"I am sorry about the abrupt nature of the meeting, sir. You see, an acquaintance from Shino Academy has commissioned me to write the history of Gotei 13 for their academical archive. It is a lengthy task -"

"As well as a noble one, as befitting you, lieutenant,"

"You honor me, sir. Obviously, I've decided to start with the most familiar - our own division. Except, it seems I surmised incorrectly."

"Indeed?"

"It is as if a chunk of Fifth Division's history has been erased. Of course, Captain Hirako is willing to impart some knowledge but there are details that I must cross-check and some parts that the captain... tends to gloss over, possibly deeming them unimportant."

"Of course, of course, and you're a thorough chronicler."

"Thank you. So I am interviewing various people from that time and you're the first, sir. Forgive me for being presumptuous but judging by your reputation, I figured you'd have the power of objective observation that would whittle out mere rumors from facts."

Hiyori could practically see the old peacock preen himself with pride. Aizen continued.

"Where I first encountered obstruction is concerning the era just prior to Captain Hirako - I believe the former captain’s name was Tenjou Soichiro?"

"If you know the name, you already know more than most."

Aizen shrugged humbly. Which was a timely break as their ordered meal had arrived. Hiyori supposed Aizen was buying, because the old miser would never have ordered such expensive items if he were paying. After a sip from his drink, the older man thoughtfully stroked his chin.

"To be honest, I'm not sure how much I can help you..."

"Perhaps you remember when Captain Hirako had been first assigned to the Fifth Division?"

"Oh, clearly. It was so ridicul - _unexpected_. The Fifth Division then - ah, how much _do_ you know about the Fifth Division back then, lieutenant?,"

 _Ya gotta give it to four-eyes,_ Hiyori thought. _He has patience, I'd have kicked him to stop ramblin' and get to the point already_.

"I am aware that the role of the Fifth Division's captain had traditionally been handed down to the Head of the Tenjou family - in a similar manner to Onmitsukido. And that Captain Tenjou Soichiro was the last to have that position."

“Well, you’ve certainly done your research, lieutenant. The Fifth Division at that time was a law onto itself. The Tenjou family _was_ the Fifth Division. Unlike other major nobles, they were rather a subdued, quiet house. Not much known about them, either. I suppose that caused some dubious rumors."

"Rumors about Captain Tenjou Soichiro?"

"Well, yes and no. The first anyone heard of him was when he became the Third Seat of the division. There were talks - whether it was right for one so young - a mere boy - to start out as an officer. It was as if he’d just popped into existence - no personal background aside from his lineage, no achievements whatsoever. So there were questions about his qualifications. But really, the nasty rumor was about the whole Tenjou family - about their use of zanpakuto."

Hiyori took that moment to glance around the pillar - it seemed to her that four-eyes sat a little straighter.

"Their zanpakuto?"

"Tenjou family specialized in the study of zanpakuto. Their members _did_ boast some really unique abilities. And… it's silly, really. But there were rumors that some nobles who had not managed to obtain their own zanpakuto and thus were unable to rise up in rank appealed to Tenjou family as a last resort. And they would use their 'secret arts' to _lend_ them their specialized zanpakuto. As to HOW, the rumor was silent."

The older man scoffed.

"Which holds water as much as going to a witch for love potions. I think the family encouraged such superstition, enjoying their notoriety. Now that I think of it, it's rather ironic that two of Tenjou's most renowned members never made much use of their zanpakuto."

"Oh?"

"Yes, but I am rather getting off-topic here -"

"No, no, please go on. I'm very much interested."

"Oh, if you are - this is before your time, lieutenant, but back then, she was what you might call a Name. Kaminari. Or Mei as some called her. Most of us just called her 'Thunder'. Not a Tenjou but one of the vassal families. First one to be an officer without any zanpakuto. Although if you've seen her, you'd have understood why the world decided she didn't _need_ one. Unfortunately a bit soft in the head, but no cruel bone in her body. Followed Captain Tenjou around like a big, loyal dog. Then there was Tenjou Soichiro himself - who was never seen using his shikai. I'm not all that sure he’d even achieved bankai, either. So, very irregular altogether."

Hiyori sighted Aizen deftly filling the emptied cup on the opposite side. _Four-eyes sure knows how to keep the conversation oiled._

"Where was I? Yes, Tenjou's questionable qualifications. Our former division – the Seventh- ended up inadvertently testing those qualifications. And as such, ended up a little more enlightened than the rest."

"Ah? Sounds intriguing."

"As well as a tad embarrassing. I hate to say ill of anyone, but the lieutenant of the Seventh Division then - wasn't exactly a man who inspired respect, but demanded plenty of it from others. It seems that Tenjou Soichiro was a little disrespectful towards him at an officers' meeting. Mind you, Tenjou was amicable enough, quite a charmer, in fact. But a bit lacking in social graces. The result was that our lieutenant sent off Hirako – “

 _Aha, knew the git was going to lose the title at some point_ , thought Hiyori.

“-  to the Fifth Division to demand a proper apology."

_How conveniently ya leave out yer part, old geezer. Weren't ya the Third Seat then? So that boar of a lieutenant would've sent YA out for that task. Only ya chickened out and sent that fool Shinji instead. If it's obvious to ME, it'd be to four-eyes as well. Only ye're too thick-headed to notice._

Regardless of Hiyori's inner thoughts, Aizen seemed wholly focused.

"And then, sir?"

"I have no idea what Hirako said but the result was that he returned with Tenjou Soichiro himself in tow. And Tenjou DID apologize. Even brought a cartload of fine wine to make up for it. So our lieutenant was satisfied and a sort of impromptu banquet was held. Then... I can't exactly remember but... _someone_ suggested a friendly spar between Tenjou and our lieutenant..."

A sip, then the grey head slightly hung to the side.

"In just a few minutes, our lieutenant was on his back, his zanpakuto flying out of his grasp, with young Tenjou grinning sheepishly over him. Then the boy made off, apologizing all the while. But it broke our lieutenant's spirit, it did."

The older shinigami took an expensive bite out of one of the sweets, taking a moment to savor it before continuing the narrative.

"Not long after that, Tenjou Soichiro became the Head of Tenjou House as well as the captain of the Fifth Division - youngest captain in history - following the death of the former Head."

"In service?"

"Yes, apparently a Hollow hunt gone bad. Never even found the body, very tragic. Anyway, as soon as he was made captain, Tenjou Soichiro put in a request for Hirako to be transferred to the Fifth Division, and that was that.”

"You must have been worried for him, sir – what with the Fifth Division practically being the Tenjou Household, and Captain Hirako being the only ‘outsider’.”

"You understand well, lieutenant. I WAS worried. And I'm quite sure there were some... hostilities within regarding that unprecedented event. But Tenjou Soichiro himself backed Hirako. As well as Kaminari. Yes, those three were very tight. Still, I was quite surprised when Hirako was promoted to lieutenant rank only days after his transfer."

 _And didn't_ **that** _rankle yafor years_ , thought Hiyori, the memory making her grin a little. 

"Why do you think Tenjou Soichiro wanted Captain Hirako in the first place?"

"Well, Hirako _does_ have that devil-may-care attitude that doesn’t give a da - ahem, let's say he takes... less care in distinguishing between social positions of those he interacts with, compared to others.”

The man’s tone suggested that he thought this particular quality of his former subordinate far from any virtue.

"I suppose it's possible he found Hirako's attitude refreshing. Perhaps he wanted at least ONE person who looked at him as just another... person. Not some... precious inheritance, because that was what a Head of Tenjou was, to the rest of the family. "

"So the two were... close?"

"Like a needle and a thread. Because Hirako was older than his captain, some called him a glorified babysitter. Quite untrue, of course, but they were quite unlike your standard idea of captain-and-lieutenant. More like siblings. Or a married couple, some joked!"

The older man guffawed. Either he failed to notice the younger man didn’t follow suit or it didn’t faze him.

"Not all was such happy domesticity, though. Tenjou Soichiro really shouldn't have been so blatant in his favoritism - predictably, there were members who took offense to - as you said, lieutenant - an 'outsider' being so close to their Head. Now, Soichiro's twin sister - what was her name... Kyo... ah, yes, Tenjou Kyoushi."

"...Teacher(教師:kyoushi)?"

"No, no. I believe it was 鏡(mirror:kyou)糸(thread:shi). But seeing as she really _was_ a sort of mentor to her brother, some made fun of it - that ‘Teacher’ might as well _be_ her real name. Never to her face, though. Perhaps Hirako did, I wouldn't put it past him."

 _Ya got that right,_ Hiyori chuckled quietly. She’d seen it, when her friend called that creepy woman _'Hey, teach_ '. The expression on the woman’s face was one of the very few fond memories she had regarding the past Fifth Division.

"Spitting image of each other, but they couldn't be more different personality-wise. Oh, she was very courteous, and very _much_ a noble, if you know what I mean. But aloof and cold. She was open about her disapproval of Hirako. Prior, she was the one who managed most of the division interactions. But, at the behest of Captain Tenjou, that role was handed to Hirako. So you can guess she might’ve gotten a little jealous. Most of the Tenjou elders shared her sentiment. But some of the vassals – also the main battle squadron of the division – actually got along quiet well with Hirako. Funny how names come back to me. Yes, Furumiya, the commander of the squadron, he took to Hirako as well."

Was it her imagination, or did the young lieutenant’s shoulder tense up a little?

"So yes, I suppose Hirako unintentionally caused some internal conflict. The Fifth division then was what you might call a stagnant pool and in comes this - pebble that causes such a splash. But what becomes of a stagnant pool eventually? It rots. It was high time for a change."

"To the point where the captain was changed?"

"Ah, yes, that 'time gap' you were talking about, lieutenant, when Hirako became captain after Captain Tenjou Soichiro, for the lack of a better word, _disappeared_... Not only him, but the whole household... I am very sorry that I don’t know the details. I can only guess - and others have done plenty of that - there was talk of... treason."

"Treason."

"Natural enough. Always a bit of darkness in that Tenjou House. But if they truly harbored any traitorous plans, I'm quite sure it was led by Tenjou Kyoushi - I just don't see Tenjou Soichiro being capable of rebellion, he always struck me as a guileless, innocent young man. If he'd been involved, it'd only be out of familial loyalty."

"And Captain Hirako -"

"People guessed that Hirako was the one who got wind of it and reported it. It was a definitely a noble deed - the only _right_ thing to do. But some looked askance at him because if it were true, then he had turned in his own division and had taken the captain’s seat…”

The older man washed down another mouthful of sweets with his drink.

"That sort of talk. Very mean-spirited. Hirako was the one who singlehandedly built up the division anew. He possibly protected some of the former members, too. I mean, your own Third Seat. Did you know that he used to be one of the Tenjou vassals?"

"I was aware, yes,"

The older man seemed taken aback, disappointed, even, at this opportunity for drama missed. Perhaps sensing this, Aizen donned a suitably placating smile.

"Outside of what little I could glean from texts, it was from him that I heard the name Tenjou most often. But our Third Seat is rather… _oblique_ in the display of his knowledge."

Hiyori resented that the older shinigami’s scoff and her own happened to coincide.

"Yes, the old rumor-monger was always like that. Curious thing, he used to be on Tenjou Kyoushi's side before. But then, he _was_ sensitive towards which way the wind was blowing - the creaky weathercock he is. I'm surprised Hirako allows him to stay at all."

“And Captain Tenjou Soichiro, sir?”

“He was presumed dead. I'm not sure about Tenjou Kyoushi herself. The rest of the family exiled, as far as anyone could guess,”

"Was it forbidden by Seireitei law to talk about..."

"Not exactly. It was as if they thought the ban itself would incite curiosity, so the whole matter was very discreetly swept under until people forgot about it, so to speak,”

The older man shrugged, looking at the almost-emptied table ruefully.

"I'm afraid that's about the store of my knowledge. I apologize for the end being so… unsatisfactory."

"Not at all, you've given me plenty of material, sir. I truly appreciate it.”

Bit of small talk ensued, and with Aizen ensuring that he'd credit the man in his epic text - the older shinigami took his leave, Aizen staying behind saying he had some time to kill before his next assignment.

When the form of the older shinigami was out of Hiyori's sight, Aizen spoke without turning around.

"You can come out now, Lieutenant Sarugaki,"

Managing to not have a heart attack, Hiyori gingerly dragged herself out, pointing at Aizen defiantly.

"Don't ya _dare_ accuse me of listenin' in or somethin'..."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Lieutenant Sarugaki,"

Aizen gestured to the opposite side. After a moment of hesitation, Hiyori walked over and slumped down on the proffered seat, arms crossed.

"What are ya doin' goin' behind Shinji's back?"

"I wouldn't call it quite that, Lieutenant Sarugaki,"

"Yah? What 'bout that trumped-up story 'about Academy commission?"

"Shino Academy's administration _did_ commission me to write a text for their history class. They gave free rein on the topic and the scope."

"So with that excuse, ya playin'... detective?"

Aizen looked amused, much to Hiyori's annoyance.

"So you accuse me of the audacity to assume the role of Sherlock Holmes?"

Hiyori snorted. Then a thought struck and she jabbed a finger at the other.

"Were _ya_ in on that?!?"

Even though she'd omitted all descriptions and specific nouns, Aizen managed to comprehend.

"Only in the sense that I was the test victim."

Aizen ordered another set of tea for both of them. Still frowning, Hiyori shot back once the waitress - obviously enamored with the presence of the most popular member of Gotei 13 - reluctantly took leave.

"Ye're still pryin', bein' nosy,”

It came out sounding sulky, the other's peaceful demeanor robbing her of any righteous anger. Aizen seemed completely poised as he answered.

"The past of our division seems rather removed from the topic Captain Hirako would like to actively discuss. Yet I am interested and invested. So as not to cause any discomfort between us, it was necessary for me to adopt a roundabout method to obtain relevant information."

Hiyori gave an incredulous expulsion of breath, jaws going slack.

"Ya sound as if... that is a... perfectly  _sensible_ thing to do. Ye're sometimes as bad as Lisa, I swear."

Aizen took the statement complacently. She huffed and sat back.

"Why would ya want to know 'bout it anyway? All that's past."

"Which still rears its head from time to time, it seems."

Hiyori absently chewed her lower lip. The other's smile remained but it seemed emptier, as if another emotion had replaced it without altering the actual expression, turning it as flat as a mask.

"And what, ya'd like cut off its rearin' head?"

"It is an officer's duty to deal with any factors that might prove hindrance to the captain. And to decide on that, I figured I must know more."

At that moment, tea arrived. Aizen poured it for both, but neither took a sip for a while.

"Third Seat baitin' ya?"

This question actually seemed to catch Aizen off-guard.

"I wouldn’t let myself be baited,"

He almost sounded offended and Hiyori nearly apologized, because she couldn't remember four-eyes being actually _offended_ by anything. The next words, however, delivered a greater shock.

"Although the Third Seat is quite capable of making disagreeable insinuations.”

If anyone dared to think it of the benign, proper lieutenant, the tone bordered on _acidic_. She found herself trying to assuage him.

"That old bugger puts nasty spin on anythin'. It ain't worth givin' half an ear to,"

The smile was back, albeit somewhat wan. Hiyori fiddled with the cup just to have something to focus on.

"And Shinji didn't talk much 'bout Tenjou when he was alive. Don't see what matters when he's _dead_."

"Captain Hirako did not talk about him then? But..." Aizen flicked his chin towards the direction the older shinigami had left, "according to him, were they not... close?"

"Them bein' close and Shinji talkin' 'bout it were two different things."

The words weighed unpleasantly on her tongue - deep down, she knew it was a lie. Her friend hadn't talked about his captain _because_ they were so close.

"Perhaps that idiot thought what ya don't know can't harm ya,"

She'd really been talking to herself. And the moment she said it, she regretted it. She saw Aizen blink.

"Harm?"

Hiyori furiously flapped a hand.

"Even if ya find things out, even when ya _know_... Hell, just knowing what _happened_ is different from how it actually _is,_ "

Aizen blinked a second time, and fixed such a stare on Hiyori until she was fidgeting.

"What?"

"I'm sorry. It was just.... unexpectedly insightful of you, Lieutenant Sarugaki."

"What do ya mean _unexpected_?"

Letting her indignant retort fly over his head, Aizen spoke again.

"By your statement, may I venture to guess that you're at least acquainted with the former?"

Hiyori glared at Aizen for a while, silent. Eventually, she broke into a sneer.

"Ye  _are_ playin' detective, all this interrogation," She leaned back. "If ya think I'd even care to gossip 'bout that idiot, ye’re no proper detective,”

Hiyori deflated a little as the other bowed, taking the refusal all too easily.

"My apologies, Lieutenant Sarugaki, I did not intend for you to feel that way."

Hiyori scowled and took a sip of the neglected tea.

"But... if I may ask something that concerns _you_ , Lieutenant Sarugaki? You are free to not answer, of course."

She put down her cup with a clang, in the manner of one answering a challenge.

"Yah? Well, shoot."

"On your birthday party, when Lieutenant Yadomaru suggested the game Snapdragon, I noticed you seemed to... tense up a little."

Aizen looked at her straight in the eye.

"You weren't keen on playing the game at first, were you?"

"That yer question?"

"I'd like to ask why,"

"What's it to ya?"

"Curiosity," Aizen hesitated a minuscule amount before adding: "You were... looking at Captain Hirako at that time."

It'd have been easy to dismiss it, reply with the classic 'I don't know what ye’re talkin' 'bout.'

Hiyori missed that chance.

She realized she'd gripped the arm of her chair tight. She felt herself being yanked back to a certain night where she'd sauntered to then vastly different Fifth Division barrack. The memory brought up a surge of old fury.

And fear.

Perhaps that was why she told Aizen what she hadn't told any of her friends, not even Captain Hikifune. Because sharing that particular memory seemed like an act of staining others with poison. But Aizen was distanced enough that he felt immune. _She_ was distanced as she told him, as if she were reciting a fairy tale. The very act of talking was much like exorcising.

"Back when Captain Tenjou was still up 'n 'bout, I once went to the Fifth Division on an official visit. I took a wrong turn and ended up at the very back of the courtyard. Accidentally came upon Shinji and Tenjou Soichiro. Didn't notice me for a while. They had a tray of blue fire between ‘em, smaller version of what we played that night,"

 _The blue light from the flaming pool had cast the courtyard and the two figures in an eerie glow. She'd been intrigued despite herself, as her friend explained the game to his captain. Tenjou's rapt expression had caught her attention - completely immersed in her friend's words. Completely immersed in_ him _. His laughter as Shinji tossed a flame-bit into the air to catch it with his mouth almost had Hiyori's own lip tugging upwards_.

"I was in Tenjou's line of sight, and he saw me first."

_Hiyori had been about to announce her presence and took a step forward... and had stopped with her foot in the air._

_The innocent look on the captain's face had morphed into something staggeringly different._

_Blue flames danced like demons in those cold eyes, unnatural light licked at the tips of slightly drawn lips, a start of a snarl._

**You don’t belong here. You’re trespassing.**

_It was the face of a predator, sighting an intruder in his domain._

**I'll kill you.** _The gaze told her._

"...I didn't like the look he gave me."

 _Then Shinji had turned around, calling at her brusquely_ \- What ya doin' skulkin' like a fallen monkey - _and the tension had been yanked off, like a scenery change in the puppet show she'd watched when she was a child. When Hiyori dared to look at Captain Tenjou again, the boyish smile was back on as if it'd never left._

_After a few minutes, it’d felt like a bad dream. And Hiyori wondered for the longest time, how she could have imagined something so ridiculous._

It was something she'd regret for the rest of her life.

For dismissing that warning. For not taking her friend's hand and running away from that place as she so dearly wanted to do in that moment, under the gaze of the beast.

And she’d never forgive Shinji either. For never telling her, thereby making her do what she did.

Leaving her friend in a murderer's house.

Leaving him to deal with the consequences all by himself.

"It sort of... stuck as a bad association."

Hiyori felt her shoulders ache. She forced herself to sag.

Aizen cocked his head slightly to one side.

"Then, why did you assent to playing the game?"

"I wasn't gonna let somethin' like that bother me after all this time."

Exorcism.

After a while, Aizen nodded.

"I'm sure Captain Hirako thinks the same, as well."

"That dense idiot knows nothin', thinks nothin',"

Aizen only smiled again, picking up his own cup.

"I have great admiration for my captain. But there are certain views that we do not agree on."

Hiyori looked at him sharply, but Aizen had dropped his gaze into his tea, talking to her but clearly envisioning something – someone – else.

"The harm you know is nothing to fear. What's truly frightening is the harm you're not aware of."

He drank, face hidden behind the tilted porcelain and the gossamer steam. As he lowered the cup, Hiyori spoke in a sedated tone that'd have surprised anyone who knew her.

"Ya be watchin' where ya treadin', four-eyes. Cuz ya be diggin' into a murderer's grave."

Brown eyes behind the glasses widened a little.

"What does that mean?"

"A clue."

There was another moment of silence between them. Then Aizen poured the tea anew for both of them, holding out his cup.

"I thank you for your support, Lieutenant Sarugaki."

Hiyori clicked her tongue. Nonetheless, she held out her own as well.

"Ya presume too much, four-eyes."

A soft clink rang between them as they brought the cups together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Hiyori, she’d want to spit that tea out years down the line. 
> 
> Hiyori’s saying “Were ya in on that” – points to Shinji’s prank with the fake Sherlock Holmes book in chapter 6. 
> 
> Aizen’s “The harm you know is nothing to fear….” line is loosely taken from Aizen’s lines(canon) at the moment of betrayal. I think it roughly runs something like: “Transparent treachery is nothing to fear. What’s truly frightening is the treachery that cannot be detected.”
> 
> On a personal note, whenever I write Hiyori saying ‘stupid Shinji’ what actually plays out in my head is ‘baka Shinji’. I live in fear of the day I’d unconsciously write ‘Shinji, get in Eva’ and forget to delete it when I upload the chapter.


	8. Staking Claim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shinji has an old scar with a story. It sets Aizen off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wakizashi is a sword that is paired with a katana. It’s usually shorter than a katana and was used as a side-arm. Very similar to Ichimaru Gin’s zanpakuto in unreleased state.
> 
> Shinji's former captain (OC) Tenjou Soichiro’s Kanji: Tenjou - 天壌(Heaven and Earth), but, also written as 殿上(the court, palace)  
> So - 宗(Sect, origin, essence) / ichi - 一(one) / ro - 朗(Clear, bright, serene)
> 
> The bit about Shinji’s Sakanade being a liar and recognizing other liars is taken from a scene in Bleach novel “Death Saves Strawberry” by Makoto Matsubara and, of course, Tite Kubo.

_The amber-eyed shinigami stood, an arm held out, looking disinterested._

_As if he hadn't noticed all the zanpakuto crisscrossing against him in a prison of swords._

_He lazily tugged at the sleeve he held. The closest blades brushed his bare throat in warning. He cocked his head just a little so that long locks fell over the steel surfaces. He spoke in a laid-back drawl._

_"Look, just pass a message on to me - ya can just write 'Up yers' or anythin' -. Or just beat me up and throw me out of the barracks so that I'd have_ somethin' _to report back to my lieutenant. He's as stubborn as an ox and not any smarter."_

_The young man (some might have considered the description too generous, to one just stepping out of boyhood.) whose sleeve was held captive cocked his head as if to mirror the blond shinigami. He made no move to free himself, only toying with the ends of the red ribbon around his waist._

_"I like your hair," said the young man._

_The other sneered. "Thanks, I like yer fancy ribbon. Against the uniform regulations, I see. I like_ that _, too."_

_Long fingers tugged once more._

_"Now, if ya could help me out here..."_

_The blade at his throat dug deeper, extracting a thread of red upon pale skin._

_The young man held up his free hand._

_"At ease, Enzou-san,"_

_"But... young lord,"_

_"_ Please _, Enzou-san. The same to you, Furumiya-san."_

_Reluctantly, the hard-faced shinigami called Enzou and the old man with a hoary beard withdrew their respective zanpakuto._

_The young man turned and stepped forward so that he faced the blond fully. Close enough that he could touch his face, if he so desired. Brown eyes looked from the pale hand upon his sleeve to the face with a drowsy scowl._

_"I didn't catch your name."_

_The blond tilted his head back just a little. One end of his lip curled up slightly._

_"Hirako Shinji."_

_"Hirako Shinji,"_

_There was a lilt to the way the youth repeated the name, bouncing each syllable on the tip of his tongue._

_Like a child playing catch._

 

* * *

 

"Hey, I wasn't done,"

"I thought you weren't reading,"

"Well, I've got bloody nothin' _else_ to do right now, do I?"

His lieutenant didn't turn back the page. Instead, he only murmured, 'You didn't miss much,' effectively ignoring his complaint.

Shinji perched on his desk chair, his uniform undone from the waist down, his left leg bare - with a poultice behind his knee. His lieutenant sat on the floor, leaning on Shinji's still-covered right leg, head resting against the outer thigh.

 _Damn the Fourth Division_ , thought Shinji, quite unfairly. _Their cures are more bothersome than actual injuries._

"Don't pick at it,"

"I wasn't," Shinji retorted, hastily drawing back the fingers that were inching towards the poultice. Shinji frowned down at the brown curls splayed on his leg.

"Surely it's been long past 30 minutes,"

"It's been barely ten."

Those who interacted with his lieutenant the most - aside from Shinji himself - might have picked up that the mild-mannered lieutenant was being a little _snappish_. Of course, they’d have just chalked it up to general tiredness or some work issues.

Shinji knew better.

Sousuke was seething.

 

* * *

 

When it happened, it'd been just a matter of embarrassment. The moment the blade sliced through Shinji’s leg, his main thought was: _I'm never gonna hear the END of it if Hiyori finds out-._ Then: _Hell, Sousuke's never gonna let me live this down._

The Hollows they'd hunted had been easy prey. However, it was a first field job for one member of the division. When one of the Hollows made a desperate rush, he’d stood frozen, stricken with fear. Shinji had been the closest and he'd jumped in, easily cutting the hollow's head off mid-air. Unfortunately, the youngster chose _that_ moment to find his courage and charged forward screaming, swinging _blindly_.

Shinji's speed served him ill, for he'd been too fast for the young shinigami to notice, and still airborn. He'd twisted just in time so the wild strike only scored a shallow slash through his left leg instead of more vital parts.

Then Sousuke had seemingly materialized right beside Shinji to tie a makeshift bandage torn out of his own shihakusho around his leg. Even then, Shinji was focused on assuring the terrified youth that everything was fine. Because the poor thing looked as if he wished the Hollow _had_ eaten him. Shinji couldn’t help pitying him, even more so when he recognized that this was same young man who'd suffered on the day of Sousuke's promotion.

"’tis really _fine_ , just a flesh wound," Shinji patted the young man's shoulder as he had that night, years ago. "And just think, from now on, ya can brag ya've actually landed a _hit_ on a _captain._ "

It probably hadn't been the best thing to say, because the boy’s face took on a distinct grey hue at that point – the sort found on decomposing vegetable marrows.

Sousuke had to guide the youth to the Fourth Division to be treated for shock. Then he'd brought that damn poultice for Shinji, taking it upon himself to treat his captain - while forbidding the latter to even lift a finger.

In retrospect, he should have followed the boy right to the Fourth Division. (Although that may have been detrimental to the latter's recovery.)

"Stop squirming, captain,"

" _Ya_ try that when someone's fiddlin’ with _yer_ leg. Don't bother with that thin’, it'd heal fine on its own - "

"It's a new remedy from the Fourth Division. I promised them I'd try it out."

"Oh, so I'm not a patient, but a test subject? What kinda miracle is that thin' supposed to perform anyway?"

"It's supposed to prevent any scarring -"

Sousuke stopped, the hand with the poultice still in the air, staring. Flummoxed, Shinji followed the other's line of sight - a spot just above the cut, on his inner thigh -

Oh. _Oh_.

"Sousuke-"

Shinji stiffened as a finger slowly traced the hardened line of dull crimson - a letter, carved permanently into the soft flesh long ago. Shinji could see Sousuke silently pronouncing the character.

 _'宗’_ ('So' of 'Soichiro)'.

"Sousuke-"

The sentence ended in an undignified yelp when the poultice was roughly _slapped_ on. Shinji bit his tongue as unforgiving fingers rubbed hard, practically pushing the silken gauze into the tender skin, _scraping_ the open wound. 

"Thirty minutes."

With that, Sousuke whipped around to slump down on the floor.

 

* * *

 

His lieutenant had made no eye contact since then. He just sat with the damn book propped up on his knees. Not talking unless he was spoken to, only giving curt replies.

To be fair, Shinji was also fuming - both at Sousuke and himself.

Hell, why _hadn't_ he stopped Sousuke from doing stupid nanny act in the first place? But then again, why did he _need_ to? Sousuke was probably _still inside his mother's womb_  when that had happened -

Okay, perhaps not _that_ long ago. But they hadn't even been _aware_ of each other's existence then...

Discarding all that, what _right_ did Sousuke have to get angry over that scar? It wasn't as if they were... they were...

Whatever.

Shinji gripped the sides of the chair to relieve the cramps creeping up his legs. The action rattled the chair a bit and he felt Sousuke pressing with the back of his head, silently admonishing him to stay still. Shinji debated kicking away his legs. He'd have done it long ago if he weren't so sure his lieutenant would not only _not_ stumble, but retaliate so that Shinji probably wouldn't have the freedom to do even _that_.

Shinji exasperatedly turned his attention to the book.

He still couldn't believe Hiyori had lent Sousuke the prank-text he'd given her. It somehow made him feel that he'd been one-upped by their combined forces.

Hiyori and Sousuke ganging up on him together, now _there_ was a frightening notion.

"Why are ya even readin' that?"

"The plot requires considerable suspension of disbelief. But the author possess a certain flair for unabashed melodrama that keeps one intrigued."

"Can't understand why Lisa's into it. It's kinda ... _reserved_ for her tastes."

"I suppose one _could_ make more of passages such as: ‘The flower smelled like her hair, a sort of airy sweetness. Swollen petals felt moist under his fingers as he parted them, exposing the center where creamy flesh blushed to crimson, delicate filaments inside glistening with nectar. He impulsively thrust in his tongue to taste those clear pearls...'"

Of course, the bastard chose just _that_ moment to lick his own fingers and turn the page.

 

* * *

 

_The youth licked the errant wine drops that had landed on his knuckles._

_Once again, he swung the porcelain jar in the manner of a boy whipping a sling. The liquid was barely saved from the fall by the momentum, sloshing precariously back to its container as the youth caught it. He held the jar out towards his companion._

_"Are you sure you don't want a sip, Hirako-san? You've hardly had any back at the barracks,"_

_"I'm on patrol duty soon. I can't drink before that."_

_The blond beside him replied without looking at the youth, who pouted._

_"Really? You don't strike me as the type to adhere to rules. Try a better excuse, Hirako-san,"_

_"And ya already took a sip from that jar. Call me fussy but I don't share bottles with strangers."_

_"I've got nothing you can catch."_

_Hirako Shinji graced this with a sideways glance._

_"Says ya."_

_"I feel bad drinking alone when you're walking me back and all."_

_"Like ya felt bad for our poor lieutenant?"_

_When the youth's smile didn't falter, Shinji just shrugged._

_"Just followin' orders from my superior."_

_The young man hummed and pocketed the jar somewhere about his person. Then he skipped forward as if playing invisible hop-scotch. The zanpakuto strapped to his side bounced off his leg on each stride._

 

\- It was more of a wakizashi than a usual katana. _A boy's sword for a boy._ Hirako Shini heard some snicker as their lieutenant and the young Third Seat of the Fifth Division faced each other on the training ground. The snickering soon died off as the smaller blade easily deflected all strikes from the other, even as the other's attack - the indulgent contempt turning into desperate rage - grew fiercer, almost mocking in its languid dance -

 

_Tenjou Soichiro abruptly whirled and suddenly seized the other's arm, pulling hard._

_"This way,"_

_"No, it ain't -"_

_"It's a shortcut, and a lot less boring than the main road."_

_Before Shinji could object, he found himself stumbling into a narrow back alley. With no-one within eyesight except for themselves -_

_He was yanked back, thrown against a rugged surface. It didn't quite take the wind out of him, but he still gasped with surprise. Tenjou Soichiro was pressing him to the stone wall. The childish smile was still there, terribly incongruous, and the tone remained cheerful as he spoke._

_"What did you do?"_

_"I dunno what ye're talkin' 'bout,"_

_"Nah-uh-uh! You have to do better than that, Hirako-san. You_ are _better than that."_

_The youth abruptly buried his face in the blond's shoulder. Loud sniffing echoed right into Shinji's ear. Swearing, Shinji grasped the brown curls and yanked. The boy relented easily, pulling back along with the harsh hand in his hair._

_"Mmm-hm, that's the smell. Kind of sugary and flowery. But it's barely noticeable now."_

_He shook off the other's hand with a toss of his head, scratching his nose._

_"Was that your shikai? I still don't get what it_ did _, though. I mean, I was_ sure _I got his leg..."_

 

-Tenjou Soichiro had swung low in the opposite direction. Everyone - including Tenjou himself - was thrown off by this unexpected mistake. It gave an opening for the Seventh Division lieutenant to charge at the youth’s back which was now wide open. But the Fifth Division officer whirled in an instant - knocking out the zanpakuto from the other's grasp -

 

 _Shinji snarled. "Ya admit ya_ intentionally _attempted to maim another division's officer?"_

_The youth gave the same sheepish grin he'd bestowed upon his defeated opponent. Only with more teeth._

_"Accidentally. Heat of the moment. I do get carried away."_

_"Accident my ass."_

_Shinji felt Sakanade buzz from within. It was hard to tell whether it was a warning growl or an excited purr. Perhaps both._

_The skin tingled where the youth held him - between his shoulder and neck._

_"What a way you have with talking to a superior officer, Hirako-san. Again, what did you do?"_

_"Again, I dunno know what ye're talkin' 'bout."_

_"Is that a secret even to your division? Perhaps you just_ like _keeping people in the dark, Hirako-san?"_

_"Ye're the one to talk,"_

_Shinji instantly regretted saying that. It was too late. An oily gleam cast over the youth’s eyes. The grip got just a little tighter, now actually uncomfortable._

_"Now, what might you mean by_ that? _"_

_Hirako Shinji's mouth was a thin line. The youth cocked his head this way and that. Then his expression morphed into a different kind of grin, that of a child who is impressed with his own idea._

_"Tell you what. Let's make a deal. Either tell me what your shikai does, or explain why you think I'm the one who keeps secrets."_

_"And if I choose neither?"_

_With a metallic screech, the zanpakuto at Tenjou's side sprang out of its sheath with a flick from a thumb. The youth snatched the hilt and unceremoniously swung the scabbard off, letting it clatter on the ground._

_A voice sounded._

_Shinji did not move, but Tenjou Soichiro peered over the corner where the alley broke into the main road. Then he nodded at Shinji conspiratorially. Shinji, frowning, cautiously looked over as well._

_Two shinigami had stopped by the side of the main road, conversing, oblivious to the event taking place in the back alley._

_Tap of a naked blade brought Shinji's attention back._

_Tenjou Soichiro's grin was now gleeful._

_"THEN,_ I _get to choose whether my zanpakuto would accidentally slide_ here _\- " the blade caressed the side of Shinji's leg - "or all the way over_ there, _" the blade slowly lifted off the blond to point towards the main road, where the two shinigami stood chatting._

_Shinji gritted his teeth. Then expelled a sigh, drooping his head down so that his hair formed a veil over his face._

_"Ya liar,"_

_"Hmm?"_

_"That ain't yer zanpakuto,"_

 

\- It would've been only half true to say Hirako Shinji cursed his mouth for landing him in this situation. There'd been a part of him that was enjoying it, viciously satisfied to have its suspicions proved correct. Years later, Shinji would realize _that_ was his fatal flaw - his inability to leave well alone. Some were blessed with either wisdom or luck. The former was recognizing danger and staying away. For wisdom was about keeping distance. The latter - his miser superior for one - had the rest of the universe to be wise on their behalf. Neither were Hirako Shinji's lot. He'd been gifted with cleverness. And cleverness had no stakes in putting distance because it liked to _poke_ at things -

 

_When Shinji's head came back up, there was a glint in his eyes, a sort of defiant amusement. Tenjou Soichiro tilted his head again, peering up at those amber eyes, almost drawn into them._

_"What makes you say that?"_

_It was Sakanade, an old liar himself - who gave him the initial hint. It wasn't often the lazy bastard got roused . But the boy's presence had jolted him awake and his constant keening had nearly driven Shinji mad, putting him on edge for the whole day._ (He would experience this again tenfold, years later. Upon sighting a certain soon-to-be graduate at the Shino Academy.)

_"That poor zanpakuto's reiatsu doesn't match yer's. 'tis like oil floatin’ above water."_

_The indistinct chatter from the faraway shinigami drifted over to them._ Damn those lazy asses. Lotta time on their hands. _Couldn't they be off on their business soon -_

_Shinji's legs were kicked from under him. With a curse, he broke his fall so that his head didn't hit the pavement. He still landed on his back. Tenjou Soichiro crouched over him, pinning down Shinji's legs with his knees, one hand restraining his arm. Shinji was about to swing his free hand but froze when Tenjou flicked the blade towards where the two shinigami were._

_"Relax, Hirako-san, this wouldn't be... damaging."_

_Shinji's eyes narrowed in disbelief as the wakizashi slit through his shihakusho to expose his left leg. The point of the sword hovered over the skin just above the knee. Shinji bit his lip as the cold metal dug into his thigh - weaving a series of lines where red drops bubbled up, flowing through the shallow grooves carved into the pale flesh._

_Satisfied with the result, the youth cast an appraising look upon his handiwork before releasing Shinji. He even gave a sycophantic smile - as if he expected the other to compliment him for his workmanship. Shinji nearly laughed at that._

_"You might,"_ _T_ _enjou Soichiro declared as he got up,_ _"actually be fun, Hirako-san."_

 

* * *

 

 

Shinji must've dozed off because he couldn't remember seeing Sousuke put the book down, nor turn around. But suddenly Sousuke's hands were back on his wounded leg, peeling off the poultice.

"Looks like the Fourth Division wasn't lying, there's still - " - a finger brushed along the skin. Shinji felt the other's breath upon the tender spot and shivered - "- this line that's visible. Perhaps it'll fade in time -"

"What's one more scar, anyway?"

"You've already got too many. I'd hate to see you accumulate more under my watch, captain."

Well, at least the title was back.

"I guess ya'd be picky 'bout that. Seein' as ya probably have none."

"Why would you think so?"

"I just know."

Sousuke looked up at him, a hand still on his bare leg. _He shouldn't._ Shinji thought as he looked down at his lieutenant's almost-smile.

"I might have a permanent bruise on my brow just from the constant flicks you give me,"

Shinji snorted and reached for the other's glasses. Sousuke gave no resistance when Shinji hooked a finger on the metal rims and slid it off – “Bet ya don't need these anyway -" - and smoothly took them away from his captain to set aside on the floor.

Shinji raked his fingers through the other's fringe, brushing up the brown curls, revealing the smooth forehead. “Ya liar,”  _\- Poking at something that he should well let alone -_ He felt the other lean into his touch. Saw brown eyes flutter close. _He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t allow me to do this._ Lean fingers squeezed the scalp. With a slight frown, Sousuke opened his eyes again. Without the glasses, those eyes looked different, reminding Shinji of deep waters seen at night.

“As clean as a babe’s,” Shinji roughly rubbed his lieutenant's forehead with his thumb. “Bet it’s the same everywhere.”

“You can always see for yourself.”

The tone was neutral, with a hint of playfulness. But the words hung in the air - a strangely solid presence amidst the sudden silence. 

Shinji was acutely aware of fingers rubbing circles on his inner thigh.

He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t allow his lieutenant to touch him this way. This was not something that was alright between a captain and an officer.

Yet like water seeping in, Sousuke had been slowly staking his claim. A touch on a shoulder, fingers through hair, brush of hand across the nape –

He shouldn’t have let him.

 

 _-“I’m no good at knots,” He’d said regretfully. He tried, and his trials proved his words true. So it was up to Shinji to tie his own hair with the ribbon his captain would bring him. A ritual between just the two of them. When they were alone, the first thing his captain did was ask Shinji to sit with his back to him. And he’d feel fingers hook into the red knot and pull. Feel the ribbon give, and his hair cascading down his neck, his back._ He shouldn’t, _Shinji had thought one day. This was not how a captain and a lieutenant should act towards each other. But he couldn’t bring himself to refuse his captain, the way you couldn’t deny a child –_

 

Shinji let his hand fall, unintentionally brushing Sousuke’s cheek in the process. He felt the hand on his leg tighten. Then Sousuke was pushing himself up. His torso lifting and chin tilting upwards –

 _It ain’t fair._ Shinji thought. _It ain’t fair to do this as if we’ve_ always _done it –_

It was just a light touch of lips. A foreign warmth against his mouth. Except it was anything but foreign. Only too familiar. Sousuke’s warmth. Sousuke’s smell. It reminded Shinji of pelt drenched in the afternoon sun. All the tightly coiled muscles and powerful rush of blood under that deceptive softness.

 

 _-He was caught unawares the first time his captain had kissed him on the mouth. When the younger man pulled back, Shinji could see fervent expectation in those brown eyes, achingly transparent. They soon dimmed with disappointment when they didn’t see the same emotion reflected in the blinking amber pair – only confusion and surprise. Shinji had laughed to cover the awkwardness. Had quickly kissed his captain back on the cheek – the sort a parent would bestow on their child. Because he had to do_ something, _because that disappointment was close to becoming the pain of rejection –_

 

Sousuke pulled back. Eyes heavy-lidded. Shinji kept his head down, hair hiding his face. His mouth tingled and he wanted to lick his lips. He couldn’t. Because he’d taste that warmth still on his mouth. Shinji clenched his teeth. Hissed the unwilling words in between.

“Why are _ya_ –“

His hand passed over the old scar.

It was a completely unconscious act. But the moment it happened, it felt like someone had pushed in an icy needle down his spine. Shinji brought his head up sharply, opening his mouth to say _something_ –

Sousuke’s gaze was riveted on his hand. On the scar. Shinji saw something dark and savage flash through those eyes.

The second kiss was an assault of a predator.

The chair tittered with the force of the surging body, at the brutal contact. It was no different than being mauled by some beast. Shinji instinctively tried to pull back and felt teeth on lips. Fingers dug into his thigh, almost reopening the wound, surely leaving bruises that’d last for days. Shinji gasped. A mistake. For the other’s tongue slipped through his parted lips, mercilessly prying them open further. Forcing itself deep inside.

It was either punching him or kissing back.

Shinji craned his neck, changing the angle, pushing forward. His own mouth moved in tandem with the other’s. Shinji let Sousuke’s tongue find his. Tasting, devouring, entangling with each other. Edge of wood dug into Shinji’s palms as he tightened his hold on the chair because he didn’t know what to do with his hands. Sucking noises and rush of blood filled Shinji’s ears, deafening. Moans and shuddering sighs mingled inside their mouths, swallowed by each other. Everything felt too hot, too wet. It was like burning, like drowning.

Eventually they parted. Panting as their bodies greedily drank in air they’d been deprived of. A thin thread of saliva still connected them. Cold air stung Shinji's moist lips, heavy warmth from the other’s harsh exhalation the only respite. _Never seen ya so out of breath_ – thought Shinji through the heat-addled brain. He’d meant to say it, but his mouth was too tired, his tongue throbbing from exhaustion.

After a moment, he managed to whisper: “What now?”

Sousuke gently licked up the line of liquid between them until they were touching again. A mockery of the first chaste kiss. Shinji could feel him smile.

“We’ll see.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, after seven chapters.
> 
> It’s going to be disgustingly saccharine for a while. Until all starts going downhill.


	9. Academy Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shinji and Aizen visit the Shino Academy to teach young students what’s what. 
> 
> Aizen’s thoughts are decidedly elsewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place some time after chapter 2 of "Our Time Carved into Our Flesh".
> 
> Another chapter from Aizen's POV.
> 
> This was inspired by a story idea from a reader. I'm pretty sure the Original Suggestion was for something a lot less dark and creepy. I'm really sorry. I really don't know how it turned out like this. *Cough*Blame Aizen*Cough*
> 
> I feel compelled to state that what these two have isn't exactly an ideal relationship. In fact, if you sense anyone talking or acting like Aizen does around Shinji, it's safe to run the other way until there's a body of ocean between the two of you. (As for Shinji, his one flaw is playing with fire.)
> 
> Another unpleasant OC alert.
> 
> * Hado is offensive kido.
> 
> * Aizen's name (藍染: Aizen) literally translated means 'indigo dye'

 

_Aizen was rinsing his legs when he found a pale lock of hair wound about his thigh._

_He was in his captain's bathroom. His captain had insisted that Aizen wash up first, saying that there just wasn't enough room for two grown men in there._

_As he stared down at that single strand, he was surprised at how desire surged up anew. It took an effort to refrain from rushing out, dripping and hard, and sink into the other's warmth once more._

_He managed to finish up, his swollen heat abated somewhat when he stepped out._

_He heard an unintelligible mumble from outside. Then laughter from his captain._

_Aizen listened. Hidden from view._

_It was well past early morning. Since his own room would be empty, someone would brave the captain's quarters to inquire about the absence of two top officers, especially when one of them was not known to sleep in._

_A thin stick of light filtered through a slit between the screens. Aizen saw a slice of his captain's bony shoulder under a flimsy slip of white cloth. A hint of the golden head, long hair wavering as the head bobbed, doling out reassuring words for the presence beyond the door._

_And suddenly, it wasn't acceptable that Hirako Shinji was talking to this young staff. With that marked body, with his seed still drying inside it._

_Yet there was a part of him that was removed from himself, looking down curiously._

_Back when he was at the Academy, his classmate had once stepped on a nail. She'd waved away attempts to help. She was a noble, raised in a household where servants got scolded for a mere scratch upon her. It was the first time she ever saw her own blood, she said, she wants to see. So she studied her impaled foot, motionless lest she disturbed the delicate red ring bubbling up around the protruding metal, fascinated. Everyone had thought her morbid._

_Now, he could relate._

_So Aizen Sousuke watched Aizen Sousuke, amused and baffled. Observing unnameable emotions spilling out of him like blood._

 

* * *

 

 

"'tis really not necessary that  _both_ of us go, ya know, waste of -"

"The Academy staff  _has_ stated their preference for both captain and lieutenant -"

"Aren't ya busy, Sousuke?"

"I can spare time for this. It's almost as if you  _don't_ want me to accompany you -"

"As a matter of fact, I'm a bit tired of everyone accusin' me of workin' ya like a cart mule -"

"Well, it's not as if they're wrong."

Aizen held his captain's glare with a smile.

"Perhaps only I can go, and you stay -"

"No, I promised-"

"Captain, lieutenant,"

The characteristic rough greeting identified the presence of a third party.

"Off to the Academy then, both of you," said Third Seat, essentially finalizing the decision for them.

"I hear the Tenth Division is also coming. Please pass my congratulations to Tsume-kun, captain, on her being promoted to lieutenant."

Captain Hirako narrowed his eyes.

"As if she's gonna take anythin' comin' from ya as congratulations,"

Hirako Shinji turned, vaguely waving a hand as the old officer bowed. Aizen Sousuke stepped up to the old man.

"Newly-appointed Lieutenant Tsume - she used to be a member of the Fifth Division before my time, if I'm not mistaken?"

"Nothing escapes you, lieutenant," Third Seat muttered, mimicking the way Aizen often spoke to their captain. "And may I offer an apology on behalf of my former staff, in advance, for the discourtesy she'll bestow on you, lieutenant."

"And is there a reason for her premeditated discourtesy towards me, Third Seat?"

"One tends not to feel too kindly towards another who has swiped something one  _coveted_ so,"

Third Seat looked up, almost talking to himself.

"I'm afraid she's always been a grasping one, and that kind tends to be spiteful."

A ghost of a grin threatened to alight on the old man's wizened mouth.

"Of course, she cannot compare to our previous captain in that regard. Perhaps she cannot compare to you either, lieutenant."

Third Seat lowered his head. Aizen met his gaze with one of his most tranquil expressions.

"You seem be in an uncharacteristically cheerful mood, Third Seat."

"We are allowed  _some_  indulgences, are we not? You, of all people, should understand, lieutenant."

At that moment their captain called out - ' _Did ya change yer mind 'bout goin'_ ' - and Aizen followed him out, leaving the Third Seat to his sneering anticipation.

 

* * *

 

 

"You used to visit her often, even after her transfer."

"What, Tsume-kun?"

Hirako Shinji threw a look over his shoulder and shrugged in a manner of replying ' _sure_ '.

"Not so much these days, but you still check on her via Captain Shiba."

"Are ya actually expectin' a reply, or just summarizin' the current state of things?"

"Was  _she_ the reason you wanted to me to stay?"

At that, Hirako Shinji swiveled halfway to face his lieutenant -

"Ooooooi! Ya idiot!"

The exclamation and the foot hit at the same time – although the only victim of the latter was the captain - skidding back quite a distance before falling onto his back.

"Ye're late!"

"No I ain't! Ya crazy monkey! And even if I were..." Hirako Shinji picked himself off the ground, striding towards the smaller figure fuming, "Why am I the only one gettin' a face-full of yer stinkin' foot?!" He jabbed a finger at Aizen, who greeted the fellow officer with his customary cheer. The smaller shinigami folded her arms.

"Obviously, ye're infinitely more kick-a-ble of the two, lazyass,"

"And ya were just watchin', Lisa?! Couldn't ya at least try to stop this itch-heeled midget?"

The figure that came up behind Sarugaki Hiyori adjusted her glasses in a show of wise impassivity.

"Some things are unstoppable: Passage of time, youthful lust, and Hiyori's kicks."

"Hey, hey! Don't lump me in with quotes from yer dirty books!"

Hirako Shinji clutched his head.

"Why do I bother... so, where'd ya drop off yer captains?"

"Captain Kyoraku's ban from the Academy is still in effect, ever since he smuggled sake on his last visit and inebriated half the senior class."

"And Captain Hikifune's tied up with some stupid project that some scatterbrain at the Second Division's dabblin' on. Hey, why did  _ya_  come anyway, baldy? Not like ye're  _needed,_ "

"Especially when you're just gonna get in the way of all the admirers lined up for Aizen."

"Hey, hey, hey! Fer yer information, I have plenty of admirers - "

"Captain Hirako-!"

A blur of white and blue and red streaked past and tackled the unfortunate captain, knocking him to the ground once more.

"You said you were going to see us first! What are you doing here-"

"Did you bring that book from the Human World?"

"I think I got my shikai!"

"He's lying! I bet he even got his zanpakuto's name wrong!"

Trapped under the gaggle of chattering forms, Hirako Shinji managed to wave a triumphant finger that clearly indicated: ' _See? Admirers._ ' Yadomaru Lisa remained unconvinced.

"My point stands.  _Aizen_ has admirers.  _You_ have... puppies."

Aizen cocked his head as he observed the onslaught on his captain.

"My impression was that the Academy students found Captain Hirako rather... intimidating."

"Don't mince words, four-eyes. Downright wary, thinks he's a weirdo, and they be right."

"Oh, but they realize he's a pushover after they actually spend time with him. Especially kids. They do seem to take to him."

"'cuz stupid baldy is practically one of 'em."

The captain managed to sit up. Students still hanging off of him like cicadas to a birch tree.

"Yah, nice to see ya all, too. Where did ya ditch Riesei-san?"

The name might as well have been a fistful of umeboshi shoved into each student's mouth. Mood soured, all began to clamor their woes:

"She confiscated the trump cards you gave us!"

"And the magazines!"

"You gotta do something! She won't let us listen to the gramophone you gave. Always nagging..."

"Ah, I  _nag_ , do I?"

The students froze. Then slowly detached themselves from the captain, putting a healthy distance from the culprit who'd said the incriminating word.

The now-lone girl still clung to Hirako Shinji, her pigtails trembling. Patting the girl on the head, the captain stood and greeted the imposing woman.

"Riesei-san, as formidable as ever."

"Ah, Captain Hirako. Not a moment goes by where I don't rue the day I allowed you to teach my summer class. It is astounding how you managed to transform my meek, rule-abiding pupils into overexcited wild beasts with a taste for Human World contraband in a mere three months' time."

"The word I'd use is  _spirited_ ," Hirako Shinji grinned. "Also, I hear these 'wild beasts' are movin' on to Special Class this year?"

"That is so," the instructor grudgingly admitted. "It seems their decline in moral discipline mysteriously coincides with a considerable increase in their skill performances. That does not mean I will tolerate lack of propriety. Class, you will address the officers with proper respect."

At the authoritative command, the students rushed to stand attention - except for the girl who hadn't let go, still doubtful of her safety. Granting the girl mercy for now, the instructor proceeded to introduce the visiting officers: "Lieutenant Sarugaki Hiyori of the Thirteenth Division, Lieutenant Yadomaru Lisa of the Eighth Division, Captain Hirako Shinji of the Fifth Division whom you're already acquainted with,  _much_  to my regret, and Lieutenant Aizen Sousuke of the same -"

" _Lieutenant Aizen?!_ "

"You didn't tell us Lieutenant Aizen was coming with you!"

"Well he  _was_ right here all this time -"

The students weren't listening. It was as if a sudden light had shone down on the said lieutenant. The youngsters stood up straight, adjusting their uniforms. They looked up at the figure – some coyly, some blushing – and greeted him enthusiastically.

The girl - who'd shouted the last indignant question to the captain - scrambled off and stood in front her protesting friends, frantically fixing her hair. She gave a very formal bow that'd been pretty if a classmate had not shoved her.

"What was that, you dumba – um, I mean, Ito-kun,"

"What are  _you_  all worked up about? You were saying the other day how cute the cap-"

"That was - a long time ago! I've moved past that!"

"That was three weeks ago - ! "

Aizen gracefully stepped in between the snarling youths. A few placating words and they settled down like sheep. The instructor nodded approvingly.

"It is fortuitous that you are here, Lieutenant Aizen. I wonder if your visiting schedule allows you enough time to give my students a sample of a  _proper_  education from a truly exemplary officer -"

"Well, Riesei-san, the kids specifically asked  _me_  to -"

" _Really?!"_

"Thank you! You'll do it, Lieutenant Aizen?!"

The cacophony of voices drowned out the captain's objection. A couple of students he pulled aside weren't so supportive of his cause:  _'Hey, what 'bout me?'_   _'Well, you can... just come with him,'_   _'Meanwhile, talk to Instructor Riesei about that gramophone_ ,  _would you?_ '.

Aizen beamed down at the expectant faces. "Of course, I'd be honored - "

Before he even finished the sentence, the eager students dragged him towards the Academy building. Aizen threw a glance at the gawking face of his captain, framed by the pitying looks of his friends, and gave his sunniest smile.

 

* * *

 

 

"...and make sure to keep all the spiritual energy in the span of your hands…"

Aizen walked around the classroom inspecting each student trying out the particular kido he'd just demonstrated. He stole a look at his captain who sat in the back in a grumpy, bored heap. Aizen saw him mouth ' _Traitors_ '.

Aizen stopped to help a couple of students stabilize their energy when out of a corner of his eye, he caught the pigtail girl sneaking out from the group, gingerly trotting towards where the blond sat. Without pausing his talk, he kept half a gaze on the girl as she anxiously glanced back lest anyone caught her. (But obviously oblivious to his attention.) The captain tilted his head questioningly but kept silent as the girl fidgeted before him.

Then, to the apparent surprise of the captain, she determinedly took hold of a yellow lock and yanked down so that their heads were nearly level. She brought her mouth near his ear -

Aizen called out.

"Izumi-san, would you kindly demonstrate this hado for the rest of the class -"

"Yessir!"

The girl spun and ran towards the center of the room, leaving the suddenly-released captain flailing for balance. She stood before the practice target and began the incantation -

"Izumi-san, try to disperse the energy a bit, it may get unbalanced -"

\- but the girl had finished the recitation too quickly. The shaft of blue light wildly shot out from her hands - the force knocking the girl flat. The spell hurtled over everyone's panicked heads - straight at the captain -

\- then  _shattered_  right before his face.

Everyone stared at the newcomer as she lowered her hand, which had fired the kido that had disintegrated the wayward spell.

"Fifth level hado, a bit unsuitable for a class of this age, no?"

Although the woman was smiling, her eyes and reiatsu lent a frigid atmosphere. So that the girl, having rushed towards the captain in tears, forgot to apologize and ducked behind him. Holding onto his haori and peeking out fearfully.

"Should be more careful, especially with such a distinguished audience."

She strode towards the captain - effectively blocking out the sight of Aizen apologizing to the same - and bowed.

"Good to see you, Captain Hirako."

"Same, Tsume-ku - sorry,  _Lieutenant Natsuki_. Guess habits die hard."

"Well, you didn't try to pat me on the head. So apparently  _some_ habits  _do_ die, sir."

Hirako Shinji gave a wry smile.

"Congratulations on the promotion. And Captain Shiba?"

"He's managing a - disagreement with the Third Division. He wasn't sure he could make the visit today so he sent me ahead of him."

"Typical. Ah, everyone, this is the newly promoted Lieutenant Natsuki of the Tenth Division. And... Sou - Aizen Sousuke here -"

"Of course, the sought-after Aizen Sousuke, first time actually seeing you in person."

After a curt nod, she turned her attention back to the blond.

"Actually, I came to deliver a message from the administration. They wanted to discuss the early graduate recruit for this year..."

"That stuff's just perfunctory, 'tis not like..."

"Riesei-san said she'll negotiate the... ' _gramophone deal_ ' only afterwards."

The last part thawed the student body back to life. Pinned by hopeful gazes, Hirako Shinji groaned.

"And the captains chose just this day to abandon me."

He rose from his seat, assuaging the tearful girl hanging off his haori when Aizen walked over.

"A moment, captain."

Hirako Shinji blinked when Aizen leaned into his side, deftly stepping aside the girl who looked up at them inquisitively. Aizen tucked a stray lock of hair behind his captain's ear and whispered -

" _Just wanted to do this."_

Aizen pulled back, taking in his captain's confounded expression. The latter's mouth twitched a few times before grinding out  _'Ye're impossible'_. Fortunately, the gong for lunch distracted the students.

The captain herded out the youngsters – including the girl who finally released him to join her friends – and soon followed them out. Just before exiting, he mouthed  _'Be nice,_ **please**. _'_ so that only Aizen could see.

"Pardon,"

A hand swept into the edge of Aizen's vision.

Lieutenant Natsuki plucked a pale strand off Aizen's shoulder.

"He  _sheds_ , doesn't he? Even back when he used to tie it."

Aizen let out a small laugh. "Thank you lieutenant. Here -" He held his hand out to the hair between the woman's fingers. "I'll take care of it."

She swung it out of his reach. "Oh, it's no trouble -"

"Really, it's -"

"What are ya two  _doin'?_ "

A small hand snatched the hair out of the woman's grip.

Sarugaki Hiyori snorted as she unceremoniously tossed the hair over her shoulder.

"What ya doin' with baldy's hair, Natsuki? Usin' it to curse the idiot?"

"Captain Hirako's rubbing off on you, Lieutenant Sarugaki. To believe in such silly human superstition."

The woman smirked at the little figure who now stood between her and Aizen.

"And do I have a reason to curse Captain Hirako?"

"Well,  _ya'd_  know."

The woman chuckled and turned. She acknowledged Yadomaru Lisa - coming in behind Sarugaki Hiyori - with a brief nod as she passed by. Yadomaru adjusted her glasses at the disappearing back.

"She was a  _lot_ more amiable the last I saw her during joint-training."

"She'd just run across that idiot baldy."

"Hmm, I suppose Shinji  _was_  right in his decision, then."

Sarugaki Hiyori snorted and looked at Aizen.

"She didn't try to pick a fight with ya or somethin', did she?"

"If she had, I wasn't aware."

 

* * *

 

 

_He first became aware of his desire when he was contemplating his captain's demise._

_For as long as he could remember, Aizen had always focused on_ beyond _._

_Beyond the coil of his physical being. Beyond the limits of this flawed world._

_Every present moment was simply a series of stepping stones to that beyond._

_As was this division, this captain. He admitted there was_ curiosity _. Hirako Shinji had been the only one who'd glimpsed his nature. Was careful enough not to be overt about it, yet daring enough to keep him close. In the end, of course, the captain would be removed for him to slip into that useful position._

_Until he realized that his captain was coloring snippets of his every day. So that his present moments changed._

_Prior, Aizen had never felt the mask he wore a burden. It was his second skin, as natural as breathing. But now, when alone with his captain, he felt the shedding of his facade. The comfort and freedom the other's presence provided._ (He wondered if this was what others meant by _'_ coming home _'.)_

_He had gotten_ used  _to his captain._

_And so Aizen found himself lingering on this particular stepping stone._

_On a whim, Aizen had once imagined that thin wrist slumped on the ground, limp and ashen-grey. Lifeless._

_He'd almost physically recoiled at the sheer_ revulsion  _the image had brought._

_Then he conjured up the picture of his captain covered in blood. For - despite his captain's accusation that he'd never seen Aizen injured - Aizen had never seen_ Hirako Shinji  _bleed. (Except for that one time. A cut from a blundering subordinate, the accident that led to revealing that one-letter mark.)_

_The white haori and the golden mane soaked dark red. The slashed shihakusho offering sight of that narrow chest. Ribbons of red trickling all the way down the sprawled, listless limbs, seeping life out of that body -_

_Had Hirako Shinji bled for his previous captain?_

_Probably, if those old scars were anything to go by._

_Then the image shifted – to that night he got promoted. The pale flesh seen through the open yukata, the strange sweetness that wafted from within. The darkly colored nipple fenced in by the swirling rise of webbed scar -_

_Aizen had been startled to realize that his lips had parted. The feel of that imaginary bud on the tip of his tongue sending quivering warmth down his loins._

_This was new, Aizen thought bemusedly. Unexpected._

_For he'd never expected_ life _to be interesting._

_So what if he came to want this particular stepping stone? Why not pick it up, keep it?_

_Was he not, after all, capable of satisfying his desire?_

_So Aizen had followed its pull, towards that golden gossamer that enticed him so, wondering how it'd feel when he'd captured it in his hands._

 

* * *

 

 

Natsuki Tsume. Rukongai-born. Former Fifth Division Fourth Seat.

_"Nat_ _suki-san? Sure, accepted into the Academy upon commendation from then-Lieutenant Hirako… lucky he saw how talented she was. Something of a child prodigy. Early graduation and immediately a seat at the Fifth Division..."_

_"... always following Cap - well, then-Lieutenant Hirako like she'd tied a string to him. Captain Tenjou didn't take to her. Neither did Mei. Before, it was just the three of them and this young upstart wedges herself in – well, both Tenjou and Natsuki-kun always struck me as a bit childish... Now, Lieutenant Aizen, I truly don't mind you allowing your captain to take those cherry blossoms, but I can't help thinking - "_

Missing in action. Considered one of the victims of multiple cases of shinigami disappearances during that time.

_"Yes, found by then-Lieutenant Hirako. Came to our division - actually rushed right at Captain Unohana which nearly gave us a heart attack - couldn't blame him, she was just a bloody bundle in his arms…. No, didn't get a good look at her wounds. Hollow attacks, it was surmised at the time - "_

Soon after, Captain Tenjou Soichiro went missing. Tenjou House fell. Hirako Shinji promoted to captain.

Natsuki Tsume reinstated after her recovery. Discharged after signs of instability. A re-training period at the Academy at the behest of Captain Hirako.

_"The incident probably scarred her mind. These talented ones are often fragile - thinks their star is the highest and the brightest and then learning something can break them like that... "_

Multiple requests to be accepted into the Fifth Division. Denied. Eventually transferred to the Tenth Division.

Such was the information that Aizen had gleaned from various records and tongues oiled with right incentives.

It was a chance that he'd come across Natsuki Tsume. The name had simply been a part of Fifth Division's past. He wouldn't have given it any thought except for the dubious nature and timing of the 'incident'. And that Hirako Shinji seemed to watch over her even when she'd moved to a different division, albeit keeping a distance...

"That's classy,"

A curtain of yellow draped over Aizen's head.

He'd been sitting in a privileged corner of the cafeteria reserved for the visiting officers. The captain peered down at the letter in Aizen's hand. It'd been given to him by a blushing young teacher. It held a poem in a skillful calligraphy, with an intricate painting of a peony:

 

_[Like red peonies_

_Is my heart, a bloom of hope_

_When sunset bleeds all_

_I shall wait among the red_

_Oh, to be dyed indigo]_

 

"Usually it's like: _'at the garden, sunset_ '. As if they're recruiting ya fer an undercover mission,"

Aizen looked at his captain. Amber eyes held only amusement.

"Ya really should be more careful, Sousuke. Readin' that in such an open space."

Aizen folded the letter.

"So, captain?"

"Hmm?"

"As you say, you've found out due to my indiscretion, so..."

Hirako Shinji wrinkled his brow. "Why should that matter?" So saying, he blithely plucked a mochi from Aizen's plate, about to take a bite.

"Oh, Captain Hirako, so they released you late. Join us for lunch."

Natsuki Tsume slipped into the seat opposite Aizen, putting her plate down as if marking a territory. Aizen felt Hirako Shinji unbend, hair brushing his cheek as he did so.

"Thanks, but no, they haven't let me go. Just a short break. And the lineup's too long to get anythin' now."

"I can get you -"

"Don't throw yer officer weight 'bout fer somethin' like that. I was 'bout to leave anyway."

Lieutenant Natuski smiled. The kind of rueful smile Aizen was familiar with.

"Are you avoiding me, Captain Hirako?"

There was a short silence. When Captain Hirako broke it, he did so in a slight, careful voice and Aizen was sure he had on the same kind of smile that was on the woman.

"Not goin' outta my way to do so."

He patted her on the shoulder as he passed by. For a split second, the woman looked like she wanted to cry.

When the captain was out of their sight, she'd regained her composure.

"The general consensus was that you two were rather mismatched," she began, the genial tone belying the burning ice of her eyes. "But you seem to get along, unless you're just enduring it. He used to steal my food too. It's quite annoying."

"You two must have been close," Aizen paused for a quarter of a breath, "once."

The other's chopsticks stilled for a second, then resumed with her words. "Sure, at least I thought so. He has a bad habit of acting close to everybody. He really shouldn't. Gives one wrong ideas, don't you think?" A corner of her lip twisted up. "He leads one to  _expect_ things, but he's as calculating as any when making decisions,"

"That's his prerogative and duty. A captain must choose his staff based on capability, rather than any personal relations. Imagined or otherwise."

The woman's dark gaze smoldered against the impassive one of the other. She tossed her head back.

"Speaking of capability, I look forward to experiencing yours first-hand on the next joint-class training session."

"I hardly think a demonstration for juniors is any opportunity for displaying such."

"Oh, I shall arrange something so that your ability isn't wasted. After all, we must show these young things what they must aim for, do we not?"

 

* * *

 

 

_It occurred to Aizen that he'd always_ aimed _, never_ wanted _._

_As it was, he had abstractedly believed the end goal of all wants should be fulfillment._

_Yet what came was feeling of never being sated. Never having enough. The frustration of not being able to possess ALL of - of -_

_Lamplight softly burning the pale, downy hair along that body, blurring its lines, smudging the drowsy form so that it bled into the golden light. The sinewy shifting of hips as he turned over, wrapping the wrinkly sheet all around him. The treacly scent that Aizen could drink in at the base of the nape when he'd brushed away the moistened locks. The way sleepy amber eyes widened a little whenever Aizen said something that surprised him._

_If he could crystallize those moments – and hold them, swallow them - make them solely and utterly his-_

_But all he could do was create those moments again, only to have them slip out of his grasp afterwards, and the thirst was renewed._

_Was this what wanting was like? The reaping of want being merely more want?_

_Or maybe this longing was only quenched by equal amount of longing from the other._

_Aizen suspected Hirako Shinji had never truly_ wanted  _anyone._

_He cared, took responsibility for, and appreciated others. But Aizen wondered if he'd ever longed for_   _a specific someone. Ever suffered the gut-wrenching desire to possess anyone._

_He had passion for_ things  _\- music, stories, trinkets from the Human World – but only_ compassion  _for people._

_Perhaps because he was much too careful about people. About life._

_Was that accountable for that distance, Aizen wondered. Even when they were connected, breaths and flesh mingling, there was a part of Hirako Shinji that stayed distant, watching with slight disapproval and disbelief._

This can't matter nearly as much as you make it out to be _, it said._ I can't matter that much to you _._

_As if the act – what they were - was based on the other_ indulging  _him, like an adult humoring a demanding child._ (It may have been those instances where Aizen left deeper marks on Hirako Shinji. Bruises on those precarious wrists, bites on thighs and throat just short of drawing blood. Pounding into that body so that he  _almost_ hurt him.)

_It seemed as if all his actions to fulfill his want only_ fed _it._

_And it grew. Red maw dripping, all fangs and gnawing hunger._

 

* * *

 

 

"...something not even division officers often get to witness. Your undivided attention, please. Lieutenant Aizen, Lieutenant Natsuki. No shikai nor bankai, only swordsmanship."

A spar between lieutenants, under the guise of an educational opportunity for classes. Petty. Puerile. Aizen had accepted.

Aizen smiled at where Riesei's - and Captain Hirako's - students sat as they cheered him on. The sound noticeably dampened when the other stepped into the training area. Aizen likewise took his position. The instructor held up her hand –

Natsuki Tsume shot forward a millisecond faster than the instructor's signal. The latter missed a chance to call a halt as things progressed all too quickly for her.

The woos and ahhs from the students gradually faded into strained, hushed silence, only punctuated by gasps and choked screams as Aizen seemingly avoided and blocked blows within a hair's breadth.

It gradually became apparent that the attacks were killing strikes.

No-one dared to voice it. The instructor tried to intervene, only to coil back at the sheer force of reiatsu around them. Some of the onlookers cringed under its weight, wincing as the invisible knives of it slashed through them.

Aizen seemed to be driven into a corner, forced to defend himself against the murderous assaults being poured upon him.

Desperate now, the instructor courageously stepped forward -

"Officers! That's quite - "

She was cut short by Aizen nearly stumbling into her. Aizen glanced back saying, "Please move out of the - "

Everybody saw the woman's zanpakuto rush forward for a fatal strike – the force of it freezing even the shouts of warning - her mouth parted to utter the shikai she was about to unleash upon her opponent and the unfortunate collateral -

Then the icy reiatsu got stamped down.

It was as if a second was carved out of the audience's perception. The picture had suddenly changed. And the sight was indeed like a picture, the only movement being the white haori and long yellow strands slowly fluttering down.

"That's enough,"

The voice broke the spell. Recognition gradually dawned upon the audience - the blond captain between two lieutenants. One hand behind him, closed around his own lieutenant's sword-grip, and the other stretched forward, holding the blade immobile.

"Both of ya."

The captain sternly remarked as he coldly looked between the two. Aizen immediately lowered his zanpakuto. The other refused to budge until Hirako Shinji gave a light shove, only then the woman relented.

Hirako Shinji whirled around, moving past Aizen, and bowed deep to the barely-standing instructor.

"I apologize for the behavior of these two,"

"Oh, no, er, not at all, please, captain!" The instructor spoke hurriedly. "After all, Lieutenant Aizen was not at fault - "

Her hand flew to her mouth as she realized what her words implied. But the captain had turned his attention back to the two officers.

"Lieutenant Aizen, Lieutenant Natsuki, ya will formally apologize fer yer improper and violent conducts unfit for officers."

Aizen held the gaze only for a fraction of a second before following his captain's example, flustering the instructor further. Natsuki Tsume's zanpakuto remained bare, the hostile reiatsu growling and shivering. But if the previous reiatsu was like that of a bloodthirsty animal, this felt like that of a cornered one. Aizen took a step forward, only to be halted by his captain's hand on his again.

"Lieutenant?" At the captain's address, she slowly sheathed her sword. Her eyes moved towards Hirako Shinji's hand holding Aizen's, and that almost-crying expression flitted over her features. Then she looked straight at Hirako Shinji.

"With all due respect, Captain Hirako, you're not  _my_ captain."

It was likely meant to be defiant. Mostly  _was_  so. But the emphasis came out almost a stifled wail.

"Ye're right, I ain't. Then I must talk to  _yer_ captain regarding the  _disrespect_ ye've displayed to the Academy, to the fellow officer and a superior, to be dealt under proper procedure."

Everyone except the three officers held their breaths.

Then Natsuki Tsume drew in a shuddering gulp of air, and stiffly apologized to the instructor.

"I suppose, this marks the end of the session, then. Pray excuse me."

She stormed out of the room. The captain made as if to call her back, but the instructor pleaded with her eyes to just let go. Hirako Shinji sighed.

"May we stay behind a bit? I'd like to have a word with my lieutenant in private."

The instructor would have agreed to anything the captain put to her. Dealing with students was another matter. For fear had given way to thrill and the younger ones crowded around Aizen.

"It ain't fair! You didn't do anything wrong..."

"No, I was just as much in the wrong. I should have thrown the fight once I realized it'd gotten out of hand..."

"Well, you couldn't just lose...!"

After appeasing the excited students and the dazed instructor, Aizen gently ushered the lot outside. The pigtail girl hesitated by the doorway, then leaned over to Aizen conspiratorially, casting furtive looks to the captain.

"Is... is Captain Hirako usually like that?"

"Like...?"

"Really like… a  _captain._ "

When even the girl was out, Aizen turned to meet the scowling visage of his captain.

" _'Should've thrown the fight'_... Damn right ya should've. What's gotten into ya? Ya usually wouldn't let yerself get roped into such a childish game."

"Lieutenant Natsuki had already made the arrangement. How could I possibly refuse?"

"Ya perfectly could've if ya wanted to. And what were ya doin' turning it into an actual fight?"

"Shouldn't I have defended myself from attacks meant to  _kill_?"

"Ya  _baited_  her. I know ya. That was the plan, wasn't it? Ya deliberately led her on so that poor staff would be in the way and ya'd have a perfect excuse to thoroughly humiliate her. What were ya going' to do -"

"Why are  _you_  angry?"

No-one else would've noticed the miniscule rise in the lieutenant's voice. But this was Hirako Shinji. The latter backed off at once, calm restored so that Aizen had to match it.

"I felt yer reiatusu when I held ya, ya know," Hirako Shinji murmured softly, "enough to shatter her zanpakuto."

"It'd have been a valuable lesson on her part."

Hirako Shinji donned a tired smile that was quite disarming.

"She's been through hell. There was no lesson. Only cruelty. I doubt anythin' ya dish out will be an improvement."

Aizen absently brushed his knuckles that had been in the other's grip. The waning warmth tingling.

"Do you consider yourself part of what she's been through?"

"Ya dug  _that_ up as well?" For a moment, it looked like his temper would flare up again. Then he just sagged. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. I don't  _consider_ , I  _am_."

There was a bout of silence. Then Aizen spoke.

"Your presence... reminds her of it. That's why you decided to keep her distant. Tenth Division because it has no personal ties whatsoever with you. Was it suggested by Captain Unohana?"

"Did ya stick an extra eye on me or somethin'?"

"You stopped your visits after having private discussions with Captain Unohana, so."

"Pretty much. Outta sight, outta mind deal. Apparently she acts okay as long as I'm not around. A form of trauma. Captain Shiba told me she was doing fine so I thought..." Hirako Shinji shook his head.

"Did you ever explain it to her?"

"I tried to. But I suppose it wasn't enough."

"It's not a matter of being deficient if the receiver refuses what's given."

"Then, perhaps I shouldn't have given her anythin' to begin with."

Hirako Shinji raked a hand through his hair.

"Listen, for the rest of the stay... just... don't provoke her,"

"A difficult task. Since my - our - very existence seems to provoke her."

"Just try to stay outta her way. I'm here to supervise students and officers, not a couple of five-year-olds pullin' each other's hair. If ya can't  _be_ mature, at least  _act_  like it. Ye're good at that,"

"You do realize she's older than me, right?"

Hirako Shinji shot up both arms exasperatedly. Aizen shrugged.

"Our schedule ends after two classes anyway. We can skip the closing ceremony and return right away to avoid any more... unpleasantries."

"Thought ya had a rendezvous at the garden by sunset."

Aizen said nothing. When his captain had grown suitably uncomfortable, Aizen muttered quietly.

"You expect me to go?"

"I don't  _expect_ anythin', I just thought... well it won't do to have that poor young thing stood up, don't ya think? Ya know, just to say  _somethin'._.."

"You seem awfully confident about my response, captain."

Aizen felt the ends of his mouth curl up. He wondered how he looked right now, judging from his captain's expression. His captain repeated the arm-lift gesture, a little more helplessly than before.

"I was just tryin' to be considerate. Sousuke, just do what ya want,"

"I don't think you'd like to know what I want to do right now, Captain Hirako."

 

* * *

 

 

_"I want to drown you alive."_

_He'd said once, when they were tangled together on the captain's futon, onto the slippery skin of the other's throat. His captain had pulled back at that. Eyes scrunching up, scrutinizing him._

_"Not only does it sound creepy, it don't make a lick of sense."_

_Aizen had laughed. And caressed his captain again until he arched up against him and cried out._

_But the thought stayed, hidden in the depth of him, as dark and deep as the waters he wanted to imprison Hirako Shinji in. Where Hirako Shinji wouldn't stay away or reach out to anyone else. Breathing and drinking and feeling only_ him _. Free and safe from the weight of anything else._

_For even when he had first laid eyes on the blond, the looming captain's haori looked too heavy for him. Perhaps that was its purpose, to weigh him down._

_Hirako Shinji looked something made of powder. Aizen couldn't help picturing others being smeared with him, breathing him in whenever he glided over to them._

_Perhaps that was why Aizen constantly reached out for him, catching at something just on the verge of drifting away. Why Aizen always tried to wet him down, so that he was tangible enough to hold. A certain satisfaction stirred in Aizen when he sighted that light body glistening after their coupling. As well as a pang of guilt. Because it felt like he'd forced a state unnatural unto it. A butterfly caught in the rain._ (But other options were either pinning it or ripping out its wings, wasn't it so?)  _That was how Hirako Shinji looked when with Aizen._   _Ravaged rather than ravished._

_And he wanted to touch those raw parts, kiss the tender spots, soothe away the pain and ache visited upon that body. Then the transgression would be repeated. As if the only way he could heal the other was to violate him._

_He supposed he should be assured. At his captain's willing embrace. Open arms that allowed Aizen to weigh him down._

_Nevertheless._

I want you to fall into me, not merely accept me.

_And he pictured the golden strands swirling in the indigo depths, like blood in the water._

 

* * *

 

 

Aizen knew he wouldn't be able to keep his captain's request when he spotted the familiar figure close by.

He was sitting in the mostly-empty assembly hall. There were only a handful of people loitering about, his captain still held captive by the administration.

Natuski Tsume stood right beside him.

"Lieutenant Natsuki," Aizen didn't bother to smile. "Am I in your seat?"

"So, the supposedly docile lieutenant has some sting in him after all."

Aizen frowned and then realized that his words could be taken in another context.

Still, how presumptuous of her. The sheer impertinence.

On the other side of the hall, Lieutenant Sarugaki was chatting with another staff, who remained miraculously un-kicked. The small shinigami glanced at their direction, furrowed her brow, and made a gesture: ' _Ya need help with that?_ '

Aizen smiled at her, gesturing back ' _No, thank you'._

Sarugaki Hiyori looked unconvinced but nodded. Except stealth wasn't her forte and the whole communication was performed before the full viewership of Lieutenant Natsuki.

"Fighting your own battles, eh, lieutenant?" She slumped down right beside Aizen. "I'm surprised, Lieutenant Sarugaki doesn't get along with most people."

"She's more caring than people give credit for."

She let out a short bark of a laugh. She bent down, looked askance at him through her dark hair.

"Brings back memories, this place. My old training instructor, he's still here, still likes to talk. From what I heard, you've been nosy. You consider that a quality of a capable officer?"

"I do believe in having as much information as possible, in order to better serve and protect one's division and my captain."

"Ah,  _one's_  division, yet  _my_  captain,"

Aizen just looked at the woman placidly. To her credit, she didn't buck under his gaze.

"I've been part of that past  _informatio_ n you speak of, so you should ask."

"I doubt I'll get a correct answer from you, Lieutenant Natsuki, since you seem the kind to warp things you take in."

That threw her off. She was more alarmed than offended at first. Then her eyes narrowed.

"You know nothing about me, nor the past Fifth Division, let alone Captain Hirako -"

"I've seen others like you, Lieutenant Natsuki. They're not that difficult to read. Like a child who mistakes want for right, sense of responsibility for affection. Taking out her anger on others when expectations aren't met."

"You say that so easily. So aloof and condescending. I bet everything came  _easil_ y for you, Lieutenant Aizen, never once rejected, discarded by a trusted one - "

"For his honor, Captain Hirako denied you not because you were broken, but because his presence would only pain you."

"He told you?!"

"He didn't need to. I've seen it."

_How the captain's presence skinned you. All the bones and organs bare. So that you were again that bloody bundle he carried and everything was pain. And you were going to use that pain to cling to him further. Like a sick child who refuses to get better to snare all attention for herself. And out of that pain came spite, poisoning yourself and others. I would have used something like you until you expired. Except Hirako Shinji cared enough to push you away._

"That's just – he  _knew_  what I wanted and yet - "

"He watched over you. Offered to be a friend, didn't he?"

"Oh, a  _friend_ ," She gave a derisive sneer. "He has  _those_ in spades,"

Something in her words struck an unpleasantly familiar chord.

"I wanted to be by his  _side_ , to protect him."

"Weren't you given a chance - chances - and proved otherwise?"

Aizen watched the anger being squeezed out of the woman like pus. Hirako Shinji would have pitied her. To Aizen, it was just as unsightly as it'd have been in an actual physical manifestation. Aizen regarded trembling fists on her knees, the reddened eyes, with distaste.

"You don't know, at all, what it's like to be abandoned by one you've admired -"

"Admiration, I always thought, couldn't be further from understanding."

Aizen got up from his seat.

"I have to go. My captain told me to rescue him if he doesn't come before the closing ceremony. Pray excuse me, Lieutenant Natsuki."

He turned away, leaving the woman curled up like an animal in pain.

"You're not the only one who sees, Lieutenant Aizen."

The voice was surprisingly calm.

"And I've seen how you look at Captain Hirako. I don't know how others  _don't_ see it. I've seen that look in Tenjou Soichiro as well, you know."

Aizen didn't turn, but he stopped in his tracks.

"He was a monster, I was only trying to save him from the monster. Don't think you can succeed where I couldn't, Lieutenant Aizen."

A frozen moment passed. Then:

"Take care, Lieutenant Natsuki."

Aizen went out of the hall.

 

* * *

 

 

Turned out, they missed each other. Since the administration had no idea where his captain had sauntered off to, Aizen missed the closing ceremony looking for him.

He came upon him by coincidence. Hirako Shinji had his back to him, talking to the pigtail girl. Aizen was too far away to hear what they were saying. But the girl held out her pinky to be locked with the captain's, and she whipped around and ran, the tails flying.

Hirako Shinji turned. He wasn't startled to find Aizen behind him.

"So, ya went after all, huh? The Hell did ya tell the poet?"

"How did you -"

"Some young thing nearly crashed into me running in from the garden. Eyes all puffy. Recognized me and snapped that I'm damned lucky to have someone like ya as a lieutenant."

"I said my devotion to the division and my captain bars me from entertaining such a relationship."

Hirako Shinji huffed. "And so my infamy increases."

"What were you talking about with Izumi-san?"

"Oh, she asked if I could join her and her friends at the next fireworks festival."

_What a clever child you are, Izumi-san. Certainly more so than Natsuki Tsume_. Aizen could picture that night: Only the pigtail girl would be there, lamenting on the absence of her friends who had mysteriously picked that night to be sick, grounded, or otherwise busy. Oh, well, they might as well enjoy the fireworks, the two of them.

_For all the distance you keep, it is remarkable how you let others approach you so easily._

Perhaps because Hirako Shinji was so detached about his own wants, he was used to giving himself to others.

And it made Aizen wonder, if Natsuki Tsume hadn't turned into what she was now... if Hirako Shinji hadn't been a captain who was responsible for so many... if  _anyone_  clung enough, wanted enough, and their wanting didn't hurt anyone else...

Hirako Shinji would've given them what they wanted. Out of compassion.

It made him wonder what they had might have sprung up from the same compassion. Whether he was merely treading the grooves clawed in by another.

He had almost asked the question when they'd come together the first time - that breakable body flushed and wet and open for him -

' _Has_ he _seen you like this?'_

Aizen had known perfectly why it'd be impossible to possess him wholly. Because Hirako Shinji had been spread out even before they had known each other. Others possessing pieces of him like pollen smeared on the bees in springtime.

Some had died with that piece, ensuring that it was away from Aizen forever.

"What if I tell you not to go?"

Hirako Shinji looked at him with a gaping mouth, obviously doubting his ears.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Aizen repeated himself. Causing the other to shake his head incredulously.

"Ya won't. Ya can't be that petty. "

"Just like you didn't stop me from going to the garden?"

Now Hirako Shinji really looked at him full in the eyes. Serious, with that disapproving crease of the brow.

"Ya got too much pride to really ask me that."

"So you're too considerate, and I'm too proud."

His captain's arms once more fluttered up in exasperation, sleeves flaring like wings of an agitated butterfly, folding down with a loud flap.

They stood glaring at each other, a couple of misplaced statues in the corner of a shady hall.

Then, after some hesitation, Hirako Shinji reached up. Long fingers closed over Aizen's cheeks, pulling his head down just slightly. Lips lightly touching.

His captain probably had meant to stop at that. But Aizen took hold of his shoulders, drawing him close. His mouth pressing into the other's forcefully. Aizen could feel the other tense up, aware that they were standing in the public hallway of the Academy. Yet Aizen deepened the contact, until there was a resigned sigh. Then Hirako Shinji let him in.

They parted just a little short of breath, Aizen's words settling warmly on the other's lips.

"As long as we understand that about each other."

_As long as you understand._

_Where most of you belong._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aizen has no middle ground. One's either an ant or His Fated One.
> 
> 'Admiration is far from understanding' line is from canon, when Aizen is talking to Hitsugaya about Momo, just after he stabbed her.
> 
> Captain Shiba is Shiba Isshin – a.k.a Kurosaki Isshin during his time as the captain of the Tenth Division. Since it's unclear how long he was the captain of the Tenth Division, I've just decided to put him in this timeline.


	10. Fever Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shinji is bedridden with a nasty cold. Of course, his 'trusty' lieutenant is there to take care of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next one will be shameless pwp chapters filled with creepy-fluff. (Because if Aizen is there, the creepy factor cannot be absent.)
> 
> This is another work inspired by a story suggestion from a reader. (same as the one who suggested the theme of last chapter.) 'Shinji is sick and Aizen is taking care of him' is the general gist of it. But again, this work ended up a lot more creepy and, er, less innocent than the Original Suggestion. Again, I apologize. 
> 
> I debated putting this one for 'explicit' rated work but as it is less... 'direct' than the chapters there, I've decided to just include it in this work. But, warnings for sexual content. 
> 
> Here, Muma(夢魔)- literally translated, 'Dream Demon' - is used as an equivalent to incubus/succubus. Although it's used more broadly to mean 'nightmare' or 'sleep paralysis'. 
> 
> There’s a saying that ‘idiots don’t catch cold’ – it seems to be used most often in Japanese but apparently there’s a similar expression in French, as well.

"I ain't gonna thank ya for _not_ sayin' _'I told you so'_ ,” Shinji muttered, his heavy eyelids barely lifting. "Mainly ‘cause ye're _gonna_ say it, later on."

Sousuke shrugged, dabbing wet cloth over his captain's forehead.

"I've given up saying that."

The captain huffed - which quickly turned into a coughing fit. His lieutenant gently helped him up and held him until the wheezing stopped. Then he put a steaming cup against dry lips.

"Slowly, now."

Shinji glared over the rim but complied. Anything he swallowed - including air - felt like sandpaper scraping across his throat. Although hot tea felt good after the initial pain. He groggily slid back down.

The fact that he wasn't the only one down with the seasonal cold - which has turned into an epidemic across Seireitei - offered little comfort. Hiyori had proved a week his senior. He'd gone to console(tease) her and that she could only _threaten_ to kick him proved that the cold this year was a force to be reckoned with. On his way back, he'd been caught in a sudden downpour.

Of course, his lieutenant's advice to take an umbrella had been ignored. 

Hiyori - having fully recovered on the day Shinji was knocked out - had already paid back the favor. He could only grit his teeth as she practically did a jig around his futon – chortling, _'Thought idiots don't catch colds - guess the sayin's wrong.'_

"I think those meds from the Fourth Division's makin' it worse."

"They assured me that it’s a vast improvement upon their previous concoctions.”

"Didn't I tell ya… _not_ to offer me up as a… test subject?"

The groggy complaint was barely squeezed out, ending in another fit of wheezing.

"...Ya be off now, Sousuke," Shinji managed after the cough settled somewhat. "Ya've been here since - morn. I'm sure there's other work mourning yer absence."

"I really think I should - "

"If it weren't fer ya babyin' me... I'd just... take care of myself. Ye’re makin’ me more helpless by bein’ here. It feels... wrong.”

"I don't see anything wrong with letting me take care of you."

"If ya want somethin' to fuss over... get yerself a... finch in a cage or somethin', Sousuke."

"I'd prefer a canary, actually."

Shinji flapped his hand impatiently, rasping _'Get-'_. Sousuke sighed and stood up, telling Shinji not to overexert himself. To which Shinji responded by scowling at his lieutenant until he was out the door. 

 

* * *

 

Sousuke needn't have bothered with the warning of overexertion, really. Shinji's body did that for him. He was exhausted after accomplishing just two activities: Locating and dragging a volume out of his stacks of books, and refilling his cup of tea.

When he'd finally settled into some form of comfort, he found himself nodding off, unable to progress from the first page. The damn medicine must've kicked in hard and well because the next time he came to, it was to Sousuke lifting his head squashed against the book.  

"...'m mup,"

Shinji grimaced at the feel of damp fabric stuck to his sweaty back, at how his breath felt unpleasantly sweet, like an overripe plum left in heat. 

"How do you feel?"

_Like the inside of my skin is lined with coal and the outside is bein' pelted with ice. And all the while, someone's batterin' me like I'm a slab of meat that needs tenderizin'._

"...more or less... the same."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disrupt your sleep, captain."

"...ya should be...workin'..."

"Just dropping in to check. I was on break, anyway."

_Ye're not known to take breaks_. But Shinji was too tired to argue.

Shinji blinked hotness out of his eyes as cool cloth swept over his face, along his neck, and other parts where sweat had gathered, relieving some of the stickiness.

"A curious volume, captain, even among your collections,"

Sousuke mentioned conversationally as he worked at his captain's chest. Shinji was glad of the distraction. For, despite his fever-addled brain, he was a little too aware of how his nipples tightened as the wet cloth brushed over them.

"...Careful not to spill any water over it, 'tis... one and only."

It was a gift from his human acquaintance. In the same vein as the illustrated book of stories he'd once lent Hiyori. But this was penned personally by the old man. (Well – _young_ , actually, considering Shinji’s own age.) A book of riddle-poems. He took cues from the old English poems he grew up with, he'd said.

Sousuke had put away the cloth, and was now thumbing through the text.

"If you're bored, perhaps I can read to you until you fall asleep, captain?"

_What did I tell ya 'bout not babyin' me_. Shinji thought he'd spoken aloud. But apparently he'd only imagined it. For Sousuke carried out his offer and opened to a random page. 

 

"What am I, a thing of white and yellow.

Cast I hollow fangs, glossy scales

Or hollow bones, fragile downs.

You won't know till my ivory fortress cracks

And my silken flesh rends.

But if you knock on me afore my time

The clear sea with its gold will spill

And all will be for naught."

 

_So like Aizen Sousuke, to pick one of the most convoluted of the lot._  Shinji shifted his body towards the younger man. A miniscule remnant of his usual mischievousness gleaming in his eyes. 

"...Try to...guess?"

"Perhaps - _you_ , captain?"

"…No, Sousuke - 'tis an _egg_." 

It may have been the late afternoon shadow but - Shinji thought a momentary glaze passed over the hazel eyes.

"Still, you look like that now, captain,"

"Ya didn't... help yerself to some of that medicine, did ya?"

"I see your cough got better."

It had. But languor had drained so much out of him that he didn't have the strength to enjoy the newfound comfort of breathing normally.

"The fever's still there, though,"

Sousuke murmured, a hand over Shinji's brow. The dry and relatively cool skin felt good there and Shinji resisted the urge to sigh. Some half-hearted protest about the other's continued presence seeped between his lips but it was obviously ignored because the image of the brunet sitting back blurred over his heated eyes. So he gave up, lying back with a groan. The sound of Sousuke shuffling through the book and the lilting voice grew distant.

 

_Last night I had a visitor._

_Don't get up, it said. (But I had)_

_I shall tend to the fire and the treats._

_Lie still, it said. (But I couldn't)_

_No need to get dressed, no occasion to rise to. (But I did)_

_Just relax and ride out the entertainment I bring._

_With sweet promises it so deceived me._

_For morning found me aching and wet and empty_

_Evidence of my secret toil._

 

"...Wet dream."

_Although the author himself insisted the answer was_ Muma. (Note: 夢魔 - literal translation of incubus/succubus)

He thought he heard the other ask a question, but it was too much effort to slur out a reply. 

 

* * *

 

The next time he stirred half-awake, Shinji realized that he was on his stomach. He dimly thought how stinging, yet pleasant the air was on his skin. Which was strange because wasn't he wearing -

Sleep still had him in its grasp. And he only vaguely noticed a smooth and warm touch traversing down his lower back. It wasn't wiping away sweat, merely slipping along, spreading the slickness along the line of his body.

Shinji shifted when something else - wet, soft, and hot - plunged into the dip at his waist. While the drier touch kept rubbing his heat-soaked flesh, pressing in at certain places in gentle massages, as if to quell his sleep-squirm. Still half-dozing, Shinji sighed as the touch circled around his leg and nuzzled the damp creases along the joint of the thigh, drenching itself. Shinji registered all that as one still hovering on the edge of a dream - with a curious mix of sensitivity and passivity that went along with it.

The wetness that trailed down his haunches was now replaced by another kind of caress. More precise. Slowly cascading down to his behind, giving lightest squeezes, then meandering over the cleft in the center -

_O-kay._ Shinji felt himself mentally sit up as his buttocks were pushed apart, coldness invading through - and then something more solid. Poking into the sweat-moist, hidden folds -

"Sousuke,"

Shinji felt the other presence freeze. He inwardly thanked the Fourth Division. At least he could speak clearly without losing his dignity in a series of coughs.

"Get yer fingers outta my ass, please."

Once the request was duly met, Shinji took time to take measure of himself. His clothing was undone and pushed up - leaving him bare from the waist down. He slowly lifted himself. Pulling up his undergarment first - which was scrunched up at the calves - and adjusting his clothes to restore what respectability he could.  

Sousuke moved to help him but Shinji threw him a daggers-look and the younger man wisely settled back down.

Sitting up now, Shinji looked at his lieutenant silently. Until the latter shifted his weight under his superior's gaze. Shinji finally spoke, his tone extremely flat.

"Lieutenant, did you just molest your bedridden superior?"

"Captain, I didn't intend -"

"If ya say somethin' along the lines of _'I was just takin' temperature'_ or _'my hand slipped'_ , I’m seriously considering the option of dishonorable discharge."

The brunet closed his mouth and cast his glance downwards. Long fingers rubbed together on his lap. A seemingly absent gesture, but it set Shinji's skin tingling.

His lieutenant started again: "Honestly, captain - what you've described is close to the truth -"

“Ha!”

The younger officer went on despite the sound of disbelief from his superior. "You were tossing in your sleep, obviously uncomfortable due to fever. I meant to merely clean off the sweat but - " Sousuke actually deigned to look embarrassed - "you're usually of - mild temperature, but - how you... how your body felt right now was...  _fascinating_ , almost like you were _melting_... And from the sounds you made in your sleep, and the way you... moved under my hand, I thought..."

Sousuke trailed off as he took in his captain's expression.

"Are ya actually accusin' me of seducin' ya in my sleep?"

Sousuke elected to remain quiet. Shinji drew in a deep breath. Well, he had two options. Either kick his lieutenant out - preferably aiming for his crotch - or -

_I'm never goin' to be the first to try out any new meds from the Fourth_ , Shinji decided. _It's doin' thin's to my brain._

Shinji dropped back onto his pillow. "Fine," he muttered, and closed his eyes.

After a while, a careful question drifted over to him: "Captain...?"

"I'm too out of it fer this. Do whatever, I don't care. But ya do all the work. I'm just gonna sleep through everythin'."

_'And if ya do somethin' as idiotic as catchin' cold yerself while at it, don't ya dare blame me-'_ Shinji pulled the covers up to his chin, shutting his eyes. Letting out a few angry sniffs so that the other knew he was still fuming.

 

* * *

 

He was surprised at the speed with which sleep overwhelmed him again. Clumps of his consciousness wondered whether the still-remaining presence had given up before gradually unraveling. Shinji felt himself sink again into the comforting dark -

When a touch sparked the last fading strand of his awareness.

There was a muddled sense of incredulity that threatened to rouse but sleep had already claimed most of him. And the touch was so slight - airy and cool like evening mist rolling under the screen door at night. _You're just dreaming,_ the soothing touch whispered through the sheets. Shinji resigned himself to be convinced.

The wispy presence alighted on his chest, stomach, and lower - pressing in places through cloth. His body seemed to blink into fits of alertness by parts that were kissed by the ghostly contacts. At times he almost fell completely into oblivion, only to be coaxed back to the edge by the other presence. 

The intermittent friction gradually set his body a-thrumming, which instinctively responded by pushing into fleeting touches. It was inexplicably natural. Like when he was a child who used to rub quite innocently against the edge of a futon or the peak of crumpled blankets, trying to get that addicting sensation between his legs. Except his dream partner was much more knowledgeable than a mass of threadbare sheets.

As a dreamer is sometimes aware of their own snores, Shinji noticed how his own breathing deepened as the touches grew more insistent. Shinji accepted that the barrier of sheets and clothes had disappeared at some point. He was really only aware of it by the feel of his undergarment being dragged down. And if he lifted his hips a little to ease its passage, he was simply tossing in his sleep.

Then the scene changed. It felt like he was lying naked on a wet field, grass chafing and plastered to his back. The surrounding fog that licked him all the way from his thigh to his throat left him gasping and shivering. He almost flailed, tried to cover himself from the assaulting cold, but only managed to twitch - as if the fog had manacled him.

Then a more physical presence draped over him. Blocking out the chill, taking away the unpleasant dampness from his body. _Shhhh._ The faint sound dried the cold sweat over his face. _Shhhh. It's alright. Relax._ And Shinji did. He distantly realized that this enclosing warmth had him trapped even more surely than the dream-fog. But the soft heat was too attractive to refuse. The smooth movement that made his flesh clutch tight too enticing to chase away by waking up.

At times, the heavy warmth would partially retreat to concentrate at certain parts of his body. Torturing and tasting his nipples until they were painfully hard. Licking salt from his tight belly. Going over all the ridges on his bucking hips. And all the while, the throb between his legs increased - stretching his nerves taut, grinding out moans. 

Everything was too hot now, congealing into liquid heat that pooled between them. Expanding - enveloping them. Shinji let himself be pulled in by that possessive warmth - tossed and turned, until he was engulfed-

Ah. He was no longer lying on a surface. He was floating somewhere, on his side like a baby inside a womb.

 

_An inverted sky, glittering salt stars_

_Scaled birds darting inside._

_It lures, come over, come in_

_But I only slipped my toes_

_Under the sliding hem of its lace_

_Afraid of the cold darkness beneath_

 

"...Sea," Shinji murmured, remembering the old man's recital, its rueful tone. The two of them had actually experienced the second to last line of the poem, during Shinji's visits. The enormous blue body of water always felt alien no matter how many times he saw it. Nothing to compare it to in Soul Society. He had wondered how it'd feel to plunge inside - but he'd never gotten around to -

But apparently, he _had_ done it. For here he was, inside its depth. _And, you were only half right, old man. It's dark, but it's warm enough_. He breathed in the salty waters. Complacently letting his body move along the current. The slickness of it slipping through every folds in his flesh. Shinji felt the watery mass press along his body, spreading him, arched as a trickle pierced inside. He bent over to open himself further. Let out muffled cries as the flow rushed in, ramming against his inner walls. Then it slowly sloshed, guiding him to move along its rhythm. Filling him until Shinji felt as if he were a vessel made of thinnest rice paper, nearly bursting as the water rose to the brim, just on the edge of overflowing -

\- and when it did, he was softly torn apart by those waves. Instead of pain, there was only numb pleasure - he was devoid of his body, dissolved into the sea. Bits of echoing ecstasy flickering upon his fading awareness was the last thing Shinji felt as blissful darkness swallowed him.

 

* * *

 

_I've been washed ashore,_  was the first thing Shinji thought as he opened his eyes.

Except it felt too dry. Too soft. Shinji blinked, took a few shallow breaths.

He was lying on his side upon his futon - with a fresh sheet over it. His clothing had also been changed - without even a hint of dampness.

He'd have believed the whole thing had been a dream. If not for how sore he was below the waist - and the smarting sensation deep inside - like a thin layer had been peeled off there.

And, well. His lack of any undergarment. And the large hand that cupped him between the thighs instead.

Shinji had a glimpse of glasses resting above the futon. He turned to confront a peaceful, sleeping face framed by mussed brown curls. With a cheek pressed into the pillow and mouth just slightly parted, it really was _quite_ unfair how innocent that face could look.

He blew on the other's eyelids, watched the wrinkles form on the smooth forehead, and the slow reveal of brown eyes. Once recognition dawned, that face beamed brightly at him. Shinji glowered at it. 

"Ya look smug,"

"I've had a rather wonderful dip in the warm sea."

For a moment, Shinji was flummoxed. Surely they couldn't have _shared_ the dream - but Sousuke's next words put things to light.

"I want you to know that I _did_ knock, but didn't crack anything. Nor was any flesh rent. And I cleaned up any spills, captain."

_Yep, he's taken some of that infernal medicine fer himself_ , _I'm sure of it._

Shinji growled weakly as that insolent hand below blatantly stroked him.

"Ya know, these after-moments would vastly improve without yer cringe-worthy pillow talk."

A chuckle. Then Sousuke drew him close, burying his face in his hair. Lips brushed his forehead.

"Your fever's gone."

So it had. But his subordinate didn't seem in a hurry to let him get up.

"...I suppose ya'll use me as an excuse fer yer half work day."

"It was a slow day in any case."

"Ya've _made_ it a slow day."

"We'll catch up tomorrow."

Shinji debated whether to pull back, just out of spite. But his body had gotten lazy - or perhaps overly malleable, from all the fever-beating it took - and decided it was wiser to be cuddled boneless inside the other's warmth.

Shinji let his mouth drop in the dip between the other's collarbones. Counted the pulse of the other's body through his skin.

And if he dreamed, he didn't remember it.

 

* * *

 

When Sousuke broke into coughs in the middle of reporting the next day, Shinji jumped at the chance to gleefully proclaim _'I told you so'_. To which the former calmly responded that it simply meant that he wasn't an idiot.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shinji's human friend, 'the old man' - thankfully does not make his living by writing poetry. (He really should be ashamed with the 'Wet Dream' one.) He runs a shop that is very similar to Urahara's - although with less supernatural flare.


End file.
